


Ticking Clock

by syntheticvision



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: Dark Andy Barber, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gaslighting, Murder, Possessive Behavior, Prison, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticvision/pseuds/syntheticvision
Summary: After your boyfriend is sentenced to prison by Neal Loguidice, you continue to find yourself in the crosshairs of Andy Barber, who is intent on keeping you close under the guise of being a friend in your time of need.
Relationships: Andy Barber & Laurie Barber, Andy Barber/Reader
Comments: 107
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

The visit ended the way it always did – the heavy sadness in your stomach of getting up and lingering at the door, watching your boyfriend be led back to his cell in cuffs through the thick plexiglass. You resolved that you were not going to cry until the door closed behind you, bowing your head as the tears ran down your cheeks that you wiped away with your palms, slumping against the wall to collect yourself.

This happened every time you came to visit, intent on being strong for him so that he wouldn’t see you fall apart.

Going back home to the apartment you once shared had every reminder of the life you both lived together, pictures on the walls and your usual routine of sleeping on your same side of the bed. The thought of going home at the moment did not appeal to you in the slightest as you wrapped your thick scarf over your neck. Your phone vibrated in your coat pocket. Another notification that you intended to ignore. Talking to people these days was not on your list of priorities.

As the cold hit you once you walked out of the door, the guards on duty nodding their heads to you as you left, your boots crunching into the snow, you looked back at the prison you were walking away from. Leaving him behind until you could visit again in a few days.

No matter what people said, you would never be used to this.

Not for the fifteen years he was sentenced to.

❄️

“You need to eat something.” Your mother pushed a small plate of stuffed mushrooms toward you.

The restaurant was loud, noisy as people chatted and laughed. She’d ambushed you to take you to lunch, urging you to be social. While she never commented on the sentencing that had been handed down for second degree murder. A bar fight gone wrong in the heat of a drunken state that had roused you from your sleep as you watched your life crumble with a tumultuous trial.

You halfheartedly stabbed the mushroom with your fork, taking a small bite to appease her. You were surviving off of hot tea and granola bars and it seemed to work fine. Food had lost its taste and you were not keen on trying to force yourself to eat.

“That’s a start,” she said hopefully, giving you a small smile. “There’s a twofold purpose for me taking you to lunch.”

You finished the last bite of the mushroom, chewing slowly while you waited for her to continue. She smoothed out the napkin on her lap, looking ever the businesswoman you knew that she was.

“Children’s Cottage is having an open house. I’ve been a donor there for years and I want to take you as my plus one.”

“Mom, I don’t know,” you sighed, deliberately looking at your plate so that you did not have to see the frown that was spreading across her lips. “I don’t feel much like doing anything.”

“That’s the point. You’ve been moping for weeks and I know, this hurts and you’re going through something that many people can’t understand. I can’t understand it myself but I empathize with your feelings, regardless of how I feel about it. But I am your mother and I know what’s best for you. You’re my only child. My baby girl. Do you know how much it hurts me to see that you’re in pain? You need to get out and be around people. It’s only for a few hours. We can go shopping and buy you a new dress to show off. Like old times.”

You leaned back in your seat, knowing that you would not win the argument. At the brief nod of your head, she smiled, inhaling softly. She looked down at your plate that was still full salad and your soup that was untouched.

“That’s my good girl. Finish your food and we’ll find you something pretty to wear.”

❄️

The flute of champagne you’d been holding onto was still full, your back nearly against the wall as your mother circled around the room, working the crowd like you knew she would. She had pushed you to a few people, introducing you as her daughter and trying to remind you of the person in front of you who had known you for more years than you thought. You slapped a smile on your face and made it through the corny jokes and questions about your education and career. No mention of the trial or the fact your boyfriend would be spending the holidays in a prison cell.

At your name being called, you whipped your head over to see your mother beckoning you with a wide smile. After you made your way over, a thin woman with shoulder length brown hair and deep brown eyes extended her hand.

“Sweetheart, this is Laurie Barber,” your mother said warmly as you shook the woman’s hand.

At the mention of her name, you let your hand fall back to your side.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Barber.”

“Please, call me Laurie. Your mother has told me so much about you but seeing you now, you look so familiar.”

Your mother stepped in before you had a chance to speak.

“Ah, you have, Laur. The Benson trial,” she said quietly.

Laurie’s face registered in shock, her hand going over her mouth. You didn’t want her pity. That’s all you got these days. Sad looks and shocked gasps at your plight. You downed the champagne in three gulps.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Laurie began, tears filling her eyes.

“I’m going to get some air, excuse me,” you mumbled, stepping away from your mother and Laurie.

You opened the doors to the outside of the building, snow blanketed on the playground while you stood on the steps, taking a cleansing breath. Calling an Uber was an option, something that you began to toss around as the cold began to hit you through your thick stockings and under your plum colored dress.

“Everything okay out here?” a smoky voice asked behind you.

You sniffed quickly, looking over your shoulder at the man standing at the door. Dressed in a suit and a black coat, you recognized him from the trial. His tousled brown hair had a small dusting of white snow on top, indicating that he was out there longer than you realized.

“Fine,” you acknowledged. The last thing you wanted was to be around more people who had known your grief.

And Andy Barber had helped contribute to it.

“Do you want me to grab you a jacket or something? You could freeze out here.”

Maybe you would. Freeze out every emotion that was welling up inside you that threatened to spill over.

“I’m fine, Mr. Barber. Thanks for your concern.”

You heard his sigh of defeat and the fact that you knew his eyes were still on you.

“So much for no hard feelings,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m going back inside,” you concluded, rubbing your arms with a shiver while you walked past him.

“That wasn’t my case, you know. It was Neal’s.”

Though you heard him, you continued on your way until you reached your mother, who saw your crestfallen expression and rubbed your back soothingly.

“Is everything alright?”

Andy moved through the crowd as he reached Laurie, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek while his eyes caught yours. The stare he gave you was long, his arms around her waist as she continued to talk to a friend.

“I just want to go home,” you replied, peeling your eyes away from him and back to your mother.

❄️

Reluctantly, you watched your father put up the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room, even after you protested that you didn’t really want to be reminded of the upcoming holiday.

“Hand me that bag of ornaments, baby girl,” he requested, threading the last of the lights through the artificial tree.

“Daddy, seriously, you don’t need to go through all of this trouble. I know Mom put you up to this.”

He let out an inelegant snort at your reply as he took the plastic box of ornaments from your hands.

“You gonna help or let me do all the work?”

With a roll of your eyes, you grabbed two of the ornaments and hung them on the tree. It wasn’t supposed to make me feel better but it did, in a way. The spaces on the tree you couldn’t reach he took care of, humming ‘What Christmas Means to Me’ while he worked. You were thankful it was your father there and not your mother, who was currently Christmas shopping for the both of you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” you admitted, nibbling on your lower lip while you placed another ornament on the tree. “First Christmas without…”

You squeezed your eyes shut to keep from crying, shaking your head as your father gathered you into a hug.

“Let it out, love bug,” he whispered at the top of your head. “It’s okay to feel. Holding it in, trying to be strong. You can only do that for so long.”

You cried all over his shirt, sniffling and blubbering with nonsensical noises. If anyone could make you feel better, it was your father. The rock of your family, caring and kind, strong and vulnerable in all the ways he needed to be. He’d been quiet at the sentencing, his hand gripping yours as much as you held onto him.

“Better?” he asked you, still not letting go.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, your head bumping under his chin as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“That’s what dads are for. It’s gonna be okay. Maybe not now but you’re going to get through it. I know you’re scared now but that’s temporary.”

You glanced at the tree, decorated fully with the soft glow of the lights against the closed blinds. It didn’t feel like Christmas quite yet, but it was a start.


	2. Chapter 2

You wiped the sweat from your brow, taking a long drink of your water and pulling the Air Pods out of your ears. Regardless of however you felt, running always cleared your mind.

“You’re fast.”

Andy was behind you, hands on his hips while he gave you a polite smile. He was cooling down from his own run. Odd, you thought to yourself, downing the last contents of your water bottle. You hadn't realized that you both ran at the same park. It was miles from where you knew the Barbers lived.

“I used to run track. Can’t get it out of my system.”

Cordial, even when you didn’t want to be. Always making your mother proud.

“Yeah, makes sense.”

You pulled your keys from your pocket, trying to make a quick getaway. Still not in the mood for small talk, especially because of the company.

“You in a rush?” he asked.

“Did you need something?”

“You left pretty abruptly at the party the other night. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How do you think I feel, Mr. Barber? You get to spend Christmas with your wife and son. I get to have Christmas dinner with my parents while my boyfriend sees me behind glass.” You paused, trying to control your emotions. “I get it, doing your duty, all legal battles are fought with the utmost respect for the law. You made that quite clear.”

At your words, Andy's tongue works inside his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing.

“He killed someone.”

“In self-defense. But that didn’t matter then so why would it matter now? If you’re trying to quell your conscience then I’m not the one you should be talking to. You took everything from me. It’s admirable that you pretend to care.”

“I didn’t prosecute the case. That was all Neal.”

You started walking toward your car at his response. It didn't matter who sat in the chair as far as you were concerned.

“You didn’t have to. I saw you every day at that table, feeding him information. He’s your protégé, Mr. Barber. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m not pretending. I want you to know that people still care. The justice system prevailed but that doesn’t mean we turn our backs on the innocent,” he called out behind you as you opened the door to your car and sat inside.

Gripping the steering wheel, you dropped your head to the wheel and sobbed, turning the ignition as the cold air blew through the heats until it finally warmed your skin and burned the tears on your cheeks.

❄️

You put on a brave front as the soulful eyes in front of you blinked, waving a hand in front of the glass. The face you’d stared into for years looked back at you with concern.

“You there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just… I don’t know.” You couldn’t keep a single thought in your head, cradling the receiver as you placed your hand on the glass to mimic his. Another visit, another chance to keep it together so he did not see you cry.

“Your dad came by to say hi last week. Thought that was uh,” his throat bobbed with emotion. “Nice, you know? Especially since we aren’t close. He stayed as long as he could.”

“He did?” You were caught off guard by his admission, still in awe at the tears forming in his eyes. He'd been so strong during this entire ordeal that you had forgotten that he was still processing how his life had shifted.

“Yeah. He said you were still trying to process everything and that he was there to support me. He mentioned he’ll try to stop by every week or so. That's, um, yeah I just... good sign.”

Your hand slid down the glass slowly, the lump in your throat seemingly growing bigger with every second that passed.

“My attorney says he’ll keep trying. Don’t lose hope, okay? I’m gonna pull through.” His voice sounded so sure. Confident.

You leaned forward, looking at his face and honed in on a small cut under his eye.

“What happened?”

His hand went up toward his eye with a awkward smile.

“Difference of opinion. You should have seen the other guy.”

“You can’t get into fights,” you cautioned, your voice still wavering. “Who knows what they could do to you. Revoke your visits or deny your appeals.”

“Hey.” His voice is harder, more determined to get you to listen. “I’m gonna battle this all the way. It was a stupid little fight and it was over and done with before the guards even had a chance to get to our cell. It’s a non-issue and it won’t happen again, okay? I promise you that.”

You sucked in your lower lip to stop it from quivering, nodding instead. The cold air blasting in the room did not help your mood and you shivered in your chair, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

“What are you gonna get me for Christmas? New pair of shoes? Maybe that leather jacket I was eyeing a few months ago?”

It’s said as a joke but trying to lighten the mood isn’t helping, not from where you’re sitting. Voices overlap as the people on either side of you sniffle and sob, to the woman to the left of you whispering into the receiver.

“What can I get you while you’re in here?”

It’s an honest question. You hadn’t thought to ask while you had been dealt such a blow. Everything had happened so fast that now you weren’t sure what was allowed and what was forbidden.

“The usual. Can’t be wrapped so I’m sorry to say you don’t get to use your surfing Santa wrapping paper.”

The dig at your quirky choice finally managed to make you crack a smile.

“It’s a classic and you know it.”

“Classically ugly,” he corrected with a laugh. “I know you’re going to get me something anyway but your presence is enough. I look forward to seeing your gorgeous face. That’s my little ray of hope in this place.”

The guard took a step closer and you watched him place his hand on the glass as you followed suit.

“I’m gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. I love you.”

Fighting against the urge to cry, you held the receiver tighter like it was an anchor.

“I love you too.”

❄️

The last thing you expected to see when you pulled into your complex was flashing red and blue lights. You collected your things, trying not to pay attention to the police officers that were milling around your apartment while you searched for your keys.

"Sorry Miss," a police officer called out. "This is an active crime scene investigation. We're going to have to ask you to come back at a later time."

“That’s my apartment complex,” you protested, people milling around outside to get a better look.

”What floor?”

”The third.”

The woman shook her head at your reply, her mouth tight in a frown.

”No can do. I know this is an inconvenience but in the interest of safety, I do need you to speak to those officers over there,” she replied, pointing at a small group of officers. “They’ll need to ask you some questions.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your brows furrowed in response.

”Is something wrong?”

”They will fill you in.”

You parked your car, unable to contain the nerves that were continuously trembling in your hands and legs as you reached the yellow caution tape.

”Let her through,” a voice called out as the tape lifted over the let you pass under.

”Identification?” An officer with kind eyes asked you softly.

Holding up your drivers license, he nodded and pointed to a woman who was in the middle of the crowd.

”Duff! She’s here,” the officer called out.

The detective gave a brisk nod before she broke through the group, buttoning up her jacket as she made her way toward you.

”Hi,” she said warmly, extending her hand to yours. “Detective Duffy. It’s nice to meet you.”

”Did... did something happen?”

The detective may not have remembered you but you did. She’d been there to watch him being taken away in cuffs. Her stoic expression the same as it was when he was led to the back of the police car.

You remembered all of them.

”We’ve been casing a unidentified person that has ties with your boyfriends’ case. We had reason to believe that the person in question would try to harm you in some way.”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head with a sigh. Holding your breath, you waited for her to continue.

”There was a break in.”

At the sound of her words, you started toward your apartment, her sharp voice breaking you out of tunnel vision.

”We can’t let you go in. At least, not for a few hours. Maybe a day. Do you have anywhere you can stay in the meantime?”

Her question drowned in the myriad of your thoughts. All of your pictures together, his things that still kept residence next to yours. Memories, both physical and emotional, were inside your apartment.

Including the Christmas tree that you and your father decorated.

”I know this is hard to hear,” Duffy acknowledged, her voice trying to soothe you as tears gathered in your eyes. “The good news is that we have them in custody. But we have reason to believe this was done as payback for...”

As her voice trails off, you understood exactly what she meant.

Retaliation.

“I can’t get anything from there?”

Duffy sighed, looking back at your apartment.

“We aren’t supposed to. The investigation is ongoing.”

”Please. It’s about to be Christmas and I -”

A sob caught in your throat, rendering you mute.

”I don’t think it’s wise for you to go in there. But I can go and get some items for you, if they are still there.”

What she was implying hit you deep and you stumbled back, head spinning.

“There were a few things that were destroyed. If you tell me what you’re looking for, I can look for them.”

"P-photo albums. All of them. On a bookshelf. There's a Columbia sweatshirt in the closet, it's gray, um," you sniffled, trying to wipe away the tears that continued to wet your face. "And a teddy bear, it's on the nightstand."

Duffy nodded as you rattled off your list, pausing for a moment to motion to an officer that was coming down the stairs.

"Photo albums, sweatshirt and a teddy bear. Anything else?"

"I don't know," you sobbed, covering your face with your hands as you began to get overwhelmed as the panic set in.

"Duff, I'll take her."

The sound of Andy's voice quieted the group. He was back in his usual suit, a blue tie and a concerned expression painted on his face.

"I know her family. I can take her to her parents house. She's in no condition to drive."

"No, I'm-I'm okay." Deep cleansing breaths were the only thing you were able to focus on. Maybe he was right, as your hands shook while Duff agreed with a slight dip of her head before she continued on.

"I'll get the address from you and I'll drop off her things. Take care and I'll call you in a few hours," Duffy called out as Andy reached out for you to come toward him.

Maybe it was the fear that had taken hold, keeping you pliable as you sunk into his embrace, trying to shelter yourself from the world that had just become increasingly hostile. But it felt good.

Safe.

You imagined for a moment that the arms around you were not Andy’s but the ones that you’d left hours prior, eyes shut as you tried to compose yourself.

"It's gonna be okay," he assured you against the shell of your ear, strong arms holding you tight. "We'll figure it out. Everything's gonna be fine."

“My things,” you began, pulling away from him to look behind you.

”Detective Duffy is going to bring them to your parents house. She’ll make sure she gets your stuff, don’t worry.”

Guiding you to the car, he opened the door for you as you slumped into the seat, legs heavy with sadness as you pulled them into the car as he closed the door behind you.

Once he slid into the drivers seat and started the car, he turned on the heat, which you were grateful for as you were beginning to freeze.

As the car pulled away from your complex, you shivered, watching out the window as it disappeared out of view.

“You want some coffee or something? Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” you responded, the car coming to a stop at a red light. “I haven’t.”

“We could stop somewhere. Might be worth it to eat a little something so you can relax.”

❄️

The diner was quiet, your hands around the cup of tea that warmed your fingers as a waitress dropped off two plates at the table. You weren’t much for small talk and you were almost thankful for the silence as your thoughts were loud.

“Thanks Emmy,” Andy replied to the waitress as you tried to form a smile. You were still fighting back the urge to go back home and see what damage had been done.

Picking at your French fries, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t told him you weren’t hungry. There was a piece of you that had known that you didn’t want to be rude, let alone ungrateful at the kindness he was showing you.

“Gotta eat something,” he urged, half of his sandwich gone. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“Why did they target me?” You weren’t sure if he even had an answer but the question had been weighing on your mind since you had left.

“It could be for a lot of reasons. People handle loss in different ways. Sometimes it’s violent. I have to get down there once they are done with processing and I’ll get some answers. Duffy will want to get some information from you as well.”

You stuck a fry in your mouth, the mealy texture hot against your tongue while you nodded in response. It did feel good to finally eat but it didn’t take away the sense of loss that you felt and the feeling of vulnerability that someone had broken into the place that you called home.

“I was thinking,” Andy began, leaning back in his seat as his hand smoothed over his tie. “Maybe I can pull a few strings for you down at the prison.”

You snapped your head up at his comment and he paused as you nodded for him to continue.

“I can’t promise anything. But with what you’ve gone through and all, especially today, it might be worth it have a few extra hours with him. Not really done but I think I could make a case for it, if you’re interested.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, not missing a beat. “Yes, please.”

“Again, I can’t promise anything but I think our chances are good.”

“I understand. I’d really appreciate it. Thank you, Andy.”

Andy smiled at your answer, studying you carefully for a moment as you finished off the last of your tea. His cell went off, breaking the quiet of your lunch. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his eyes narrowing at the caller ID.

“Hang on, I gotta take this. Be right back.”

He slid out of the booth, leaving you alone while you finished the rest of your fries and tea. You wondered if Detective Duffy was able to get the items you requested. It wasn’t much but the sweatshirt was one that you routinely wore when you wanted to feel close to him and the teddy bear was the first gift he’d ever bought you, a prize from the state fair that he had won. The photo albums contained every single memory that you had made with him and then some.

Trying to think of who would commit such a crime was maddening. It had been a bar fight, with someone he didn’t personally know. You hadn’t been there when it taken place, only to get the call to come to the precinct when he called.

Then you realized you hadn’t called him Mr. Barber. You’d called him Andy.

Personal. Too personal.

“Good news and bad news,” Andy piped up, settling back into the booth. “Good news is that Duffy has your items. She’s going to drop them off in a little.”

“And the bad news?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know but it was worth asking.

“Your apartment is in bad shape. It’s ransacked, everything is everywhere but it doesn’t look like anything was taken.”

The Christmas tree was probably laying somewhere on the floor, you predicted, trying to keep a brave face as he put his phone away.

“You ready to go?”

You opened your purse, pulling out your wallet to pay as Andy held up his hands.

“No way. It’s on me. It’s the least I can do.”

You watched him fish out several big bills, eventually placing two of them on the table; more than enough to cover what you both ordered.

“Let’s get you home safe.”

❄️

The sound of the alarm chiming downstairs roused you awake, your eyes adjusting to the light that had filled your old room. You were thanking your overly nostalgic mother for keeping your room the way you had left it years ago, the bed still as comfortable as the last time you slept in it, posters of your favorite bands still on the walls. It felt like a piece of home, a far cry from your apartment but secure.

You heard your father laughing and a familiar voice that made you lift your head from the pillow.

When you reached the foot of the stairs, you saw your father and Andy holding each end of a giant Christmas tree.

“Daddy?” you asked, bewildered at why Andy was inside your home.

“Hey baby girl! I didn’t hear you wake up. Andy and I were going to surprise you. He helped me pick out a tree so we could decorate it.”

“Ah, it’s not problem. Figured you guys need a little pick me up,” Andy admitted, his gaze on you while you stared at the massive tree.

“It’s big,” you noted, watching them maneuver it onto the base. “That’s a lot to decorate.”

“It’s perfect,” your mother chimed in. “Thank you, Andy. This is so thoughtful.”

Your mother circled the tree as Andy leaned against the banister.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to,” you replied, watching your parents look up at the tree in awe.

“Don’t mention it. I figured you needed a distraction from what happened yesterday. Maybe I’ll bring some ornaments for you, give you a head start on decorating.”

“That’d be wonderful,” your mother chimed in, before you had a chance to answer. “We’ll need more for a tree this big.”

Andy looked at his watch and then gave you a wink.

“Ah, I better go. I told Laurie I’d help her clean out the garage. You take care, okay? I’ll let you know if I hear anything else," he informed you, turning on his heels before he paused. "Oh, I almost forgot. Keep what I told you about pulling some strings between us, okay? I wouldn't want anyone to find out."

"Of course," you answered. "I promise."

"Good. It's our little secret."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cracks begin to show in the Barber’s marriage as Andy seeks solace in the one person he knows he can control.

Pressing submit on what you believed was the tenth information form, you leaned back in your chair, various tabs on your web browser open with photos of apartments. Still not allowed back inside your place per Duffy’s instructions as she had dropped off your requested items, it was time to move on from the place that you had called home for over three years. It wasn’t that you were not grateful for being back home. There were good memories here. Your parents were not shy about how happy they were to have you under their roof once more, even though it had been years since you’d been home. Three square meals a day, watching football with your dad when you came home from work. Just like old times.

“Morning, sweetheart,” your mother called out, her arms wrapping around you as you smelled the first few hints of her perfume. “What are you doing?”

“Apartment searching,” you replied sheepishly, watching her face fall slightly.

“Already? I thought you said you weren’t going to look until after the new year.”

“I was,” you began, trying to soothe away the worried look she gave you. “It’s just easier to look now and let them know that I’ll be ready to move in by early January. That’s usually when people out anyway. Fresh starts or something like that.”

You heard the pour of her coffee, finally looking at what she was wearing. She was dressed up in her usual pantsuit, her heavy coat that you had bought her two Christmases ago buttoned up to the top.

“It’s Saturday,” you informed her, watching her eyes meet yours with a sad smile. “You never work on weekends.”

“I know. Something came up unexpectedly and I have to speak with one of the directors from the Children’s Cottage.”

You didn’t like the tone in her voice. It was sad, like a chore she didn’t want to do.

“Is everything okay?”

“No,” your mother said pointedly. “It isn’t. Laurie has been put on leave. The board of directors has asked us to issue a statement and continue on with the gala that’s planned.”

“On leave?”

It was then that you realized you had missed something, your mother placing a top over the thermos of coffee.

“You remember Jacob, don’t you? He was small back then but he came to one of our holiday parties. They, um... they arrested him on suspicion of murder of that boy in the park,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast as she gripped the cup. “Andy’s been placed off of the case and put on leave as well.”

You’d known about the case, driving past the caution tape and news vans that congested the streets that made you take detours, something that you didn’t mind as you knew that someone’s child was gone. All of that you had understood. This, however, was news that made your gut grow cold. While the Barbers had bigger problems, the thought of being so close to having extra time with the one you loved was now fading away. It wasn’t right for you to be selfish and you pushed through the guilt of being upset, blowing out a sigh as your mother grabbed her keys.

“It’s been a rough few days for them and I can’t imagine what they are going through. I’m going to stop by their house a little later. I know you probably don’t want to come along but I think it might be nice to have another familiar face around for the Barbers to see. After all, he did help with the Christmas tree.”

Before you had a chance to answer, you heard the door closing behind her.

❄️

The wind chill swept through your jacket as you pulled the collar closer to your neck, your scarf flowing while you waited on the steps of the Barber home. Vans had been cleared from the residential street for the moment, your mother grateful for the lack of cameras as the sound of the lock sliding open caught her attention, her usual megawatt smile now simply a small turn of her lips as Laurie opened the door, her frame even thinner than before.

“It’s not meatloaf,” your mother clarified, holding a glass container. “They’re cookies. Something to eat that’s mindless and not good for you but they taste pretty well, don’t they sweetheart?”

You nodded at her prediction, Laurie’s expression softening as she opened the door wider.

“Come on in.”

As luck would have it, your phone began to ring, an unknown number that you were grateful to answer.

“I’ll be outside, give me a few.”

You slipped out the door, cradling the phone to your ear as a cheerful voice introduced themselves as a representative from one of the apartments you had been looking at. You set up a date and time for a week ahead, thanking them for the call and putting the information in your phone.

The sound of the tires on the pavement broke your concentration, turning to see Andy park in the driveway, hat slung over his brow.

“Hey,” he called out, holding two bags of what you realized was take out. “What are you doing outside? It’s cold out here.”

“Just taking a phone call.” It felt awkward now, more so than it had prior. What was the polite or right thing to say to someone in this situation? “I’m sorry, Mr. Barber. I wish I had more to say but I’m so sorry.”

“Back to Mr. Barber now,” Andy replied, his lips pursed into a frown as he nodded. “That didn’t take long. I assume your mother is keeping Laurie company.”

“Yeah.”

“Someone has to. Can’t be me all the time,” he muttered, shifting the bags to his free hand. “It’ll all work itself out. I know, you’re probably worried about what I promised you. I can’t -”

“No, no,” you interrupted quickly. “I don’t expect anything. You have a lot more on your plate. I’m disappointed but I understand it completely. This takes precedence.”

“I was going to say that I can’t go into the office but I can still help you. I made a promise and I’m going to see it through. You deserve that.”

“You really don’t have to. I can’t ask that of you.”

He lifted his head, cobalt eyes focused on your face.

“Sure you can. I’d do anything for you. Give me a few days, let Jacob’s lawyer do her work and I’ll have an answer. Everything okay otherwise? Duff said you still haven’t been able to get back into your apartment.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head.

“No, not yet. I’m looking at apartments.”

“You are? Where?”

“Just a few miles from my job, no big moves. With the sentencing and then the break in, it might be time for a fresh start.”

Andy’s eyes focused on the door that opened, Laurie waving from the doorstep.

“I know that feeling,” he said quietly, raising up the bags to Laurie. “I’m coming, give me two seconds.”

Your mother appeared at the door, enveloping Laurie in an embrace.

“Ah, guess you aren’t staying for dinner,” Andy noted, giving a smile to your mother who was coming down the steps. “Next time.”

“Andy, if there’s anything you need,” your mother began, clutching her keys in her hand. “Anything at all. You let us know. My offer still stands for our holiday party. I know it’s an awkward time right now but we’d love to have you both.”

Your phone chimed in your pocket, Andy’s gaze turning toward the sound before you saw his jaw clench.

“I don’t know. We’ll see. Thank you though, we appreciate it.”

❄️

Burl Ives crooned over the speakers while you raised your glass to your mother’s cousin, Aunt Someone, a name that had been repeated enough time that you should have remembered. It had to be the punch that your father made, more alcohol than any other ingredient that was inside the giant bowl. You knew you were well on your way to being drunk, if not already there, your body warm as you settled against the wall to keep your composure.

You heard whispers, taking another sip of your strong drink while your eyes coasted over the small crowd, your mother snapping photos while your father played a doting host, picking up discarded napkins and plates. This time last year, you were trading Christmas stories with the one that was on your mind, remembering his wide eyed wonder at the fact your father had managed to pull off a Christmas in Hawaii without you knowing. This year, you weren’t much for holiday cheer, trying to ignore the empathetic stares and lingering hugs. Everyone sad for you but no words for the one who is missing.

The whispers intensified, your eyes following the sight of Andy following behind your father. You had to hand it to your father, no one dared make a comment at the invited guest that kept his eyes down, right toward the punch bowl. You waited for any sight of Laurie but you didn’t see her and chalked it up to her most likely being such at the front door by one of your parents’ nosy neighbors.

Your head was swimming as you closed your eyes briefly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, making your mouth tingle. That alone was a sign that you needed to stop drinking but the saccharine drink still had a few sips left and you didn’t want it to go to waste.

“Falling asleep?” a deep voice asked, my eyes snapping open to see Andy in front of me, holding up his plastic glass of punch. Dressed down in a pair of black slacks and a grey sweater, he looked less the imposing DA I knew him to be and more of a person.

“Mr. Barber. That punch packs a… well, punch,” you said with a small laugh at your own joke. “It’s strong stuff.”

“I can tell. You okay over here?”

“Yeah,” you affirmed with a slow nod. “Where’s Mrs. Barber? Did she get stuck talking to Mrs. Reston?”

At the raise of his brows while he took a sip, I realized I had my answer.

“No. She didn’t want to come. I figured we could put on a brave front together but it appears that isn’t going to be happening. We’re not seeing eye to eye on how to handle these things.”

“I’m sure things will work out.” Your optimistic comment was met with a slight roll of his eyes.

“I appreciate your good will in that regard but… I don’t know. Glad to be out of the house for a little, even if people don’t want me here.”

You looked around, watching people mill around. No one was looking at him from where you were standing. Maybe it was paranoia or the fact that it was getting closer to Christmas and he was dealing with his own trauma from the news. This was why you were drinking. You understood the weight of the holidays when the people you love couldn’t be around.

“I’m sure that isn’t true. You’re very well liked.” It wasn’t a lie, but you felt yourself searching for a disclaimer after you had said it. “It’s just a weird time right now. I would know.”

You hadn’t meant to bring it up but it hung in the air for a moment as he held up his glass to you.

“Well. To weird times then?”

You touched your glass against his and downed the last of it, your head still spinning as your hand fell back at your side, nearly dropping the cup to the floor.

“Shit, I think I drank too much,” you mumbled to yourself. “I should stop.”

Your words were slurred and you covered your mouth, watching your father refill the punch bowl as your mother poked her head in between two of her friends as they snapped a selfie.

“I should go to bed,” you admitted, knowing that sleep would overtake you soon with the warmth inside you building.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, I think I got it,” you replied confidently, giving yourself a little push from the wall, the voices from the crowd a small hum in your ears as you stumbled forward.

“Shit, sorry, did I kick you?” you muttered, looking down at Andy’s black dress shoes. “That is definitely my cue to go to bed.”

“Let me help you. I can get your dad-”

“No, God, don’t,” you rushed out, already picturing how he would embarrass you in a way only a father would.

“Let me then,” Andy said, placing his cup on the small table as you felt his arm around your waist, your body against his own as he guided you past a few party guests, asking for space under the guise of you being unwell.

Once you reached the stairs, you heard your mother’s voice, Andy’s hand falling away at your back.

“Done already?”

When you tuned around, you saw the mischievous smile on her face.

“Had too much of your dad’s punch, I see. It’ll knock you right out,” she said with a soft chuckle, patting your cheek softly.

“I was just going to help her up the stairs and then I was going to head out,” Andy said behind you. “I’ve been gone a little longer than I realized.”

“You don’t have to,” your mother said, turning to look for your father. “I’m sure her father can help so you can get home.”

“It’s no trouble. Just want to make sure she doesn’t fall on the stairs. I’m pretty sure your husband went out to the garage to get more bottles of alcohol for that punch. She knows where to go once she’s on the second floor, isn’t that right?”

You nodded, unsure if you still had the polite smile that had been plastered on your face all night.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” your mother cooed, turning on her heels to take another picture of the party guests.

You took the stairs one at a time, your fingers sliding against the smooth banister as Frank Sinatra’s Silent Night began to play, increasing your drowsiness as you reached the second floor with Andy still behind you guiding your every step.

“Where now?” his voice called out, now almost against your head.

“I’m okay, Mr. Barber, my old room is right there,” you said with a lazy motion of your hand. “Thank you for helping me up the steps.”

“Andy.”

You turned at the sound of his voice that was hard, almost angry.

“What?”

“It’s Andy. Mr. Barber was my father and a shit one at that. Call me Andy.”

“Okay, Andy,” you recited back, his arm still at your back as you walked toward your room.

Your steps got slower, your legs heavy with every movement and you knew sleep was coming on soon. All you needed to do was peel off your dress and dive under the blankets and you would be in bliss.

The door was opened for you, giving you a path to your bed as you still felt his presence in the darkness. You reached for your zipper, seemingly forgetting the additional spectator that was in your space until a warm hand engulfed yours, the zipper sliding down your side.

“Andy, I can do it,” you protested weakly, hearing his voice quiet you with a hushed denial.

“It’s the least I can do until I can get you reunited with your boyfriend.”

You hoped that you would dream about him tonight, the dress falling down to your heels softly before you crawled into bed. The coolness of the sheets gave you goosebumps, a warm touch heating up your calves. A massage, your brain registered, your legs relaxing for a moment as you sighed in bliss.

“Do you miss him?” a voice asks, cutting through the fragile line between consciousness and sleep.

“Mhm,” you answered, the warmth rising to your bare thighs, the touch of fingers against your delicate skin, the coolness of something drawing against your inner thighs producing more goosebumps. A ring, perhaps but it’s gone the instant you give it a thought.

“Thank you for letting me help you. I know you’re alone but you don’t need to be. Not when you have me,” the voice promises. “You’re soft everywhere. Especially here.”

You felt fingers between your folds, brushing against your clit as you sighed. Your eyes felt too heavy to open, your body fighting back against the instinct to open them and to enjoy the sensations that were happening.

“Just relax. I’ve got you. You wanna see him again, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, two thick fingers sliding into your slick channel, pulling a moan from your lips.

“Then be good girl and cum on my fingers.” His fingers pressed up against the spongy terrain of your cunt, the only sounds you heard were your heartbeat and breathing. The rhythm of his fingers was slow but deep, your legs involuntarily drawing up as you got closer.

It had to be a dream, your brain relayed, quieting the dark thought that was hidden behind your closed eyes. You were floating now, enrobed in a spiral of bliss as you panted, sleep blanketing over you before the blankets were pulled around you.

“Sleep well,” the voice purred against your ear before you surrendered to the decadent darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy makes good on his promise but the agreement comes at a cost.

The smell of coffee wafted under your nose, a figure hovering above you as the sound of the mug being placed on the nightstand roused you from sleep. Your eyes fluttered open at his presence, squinting at the bright light that was streaming through the blinds.

“What time is it?” you groaned, your head throbbing slightly as you tried to wet your lips. You felt like a wrung-out sponge, a telltale sign that you were hungover.

“Almost ten,” your father confirmed with a chuckle. “My Christmas punch does it again.”

“Ugh, Dad. Did you have to make it so strong?”

“Not up to me. It was your grandmother’s recipe. I’m just following directions.”

You stretched out under the blankets, still trying to recall the night prior.

“There’s breakfast downstairs. Saved you a plate in the microwave so you can heat it up. Your mom is dragging me Christmas shopping so you’ll most likely have the whole house to yourself.”

He took the hint that you were not much for talking and slipped out of your room. You looked up at the ceiling, still trying to recall the events of the night prior. The copious amount of selfies your mother took, you remembered that. Your memory was jogged enough to know you had been drunk, walking up the steps with Andy behind you. At that thought, you pulled the blanket over your face, eyes squeezing shut to try to block it out. It was no use. You could almost hear the soft sound of the zipper in your head as your dress had fallen to the floor.

Everything else was a blur. Except the fact that you knew something had happened.

From what little you remembered, you knew you had opened your legs wider, letting someone's fingers explore with determination. Your eyes fluttered open at the thought and you rushed to the bathroom, fighting off the nausea that had been brewing inside your stomach that had been brought to the surface with the realization of what had transpired.

Wiping your mouth, you turned on the shower, pulling off your underwear that looked like they had been ripped slightly. You let them drop to the floor as you got inside the shower, the hot water pelting against your body as you reached for the washcloth and body wash, scrubbing away the shame you felt.

Salty tears dripped down your cheeks as you scrubbed harder. You'd let him touch you. Andy Barber, a husband and father. What was worse was the guilt you felt at letting someone who was not the man you love do something so intimate that you turned up the water hotter, as if to punish yourself as it scalded you. It was your fault, you reasoned, wrapping your arms around yourself to will away the guilt and shame. This is why you didn't drink. Who knows what you would have said to Andy in your drunken state? He was vulnerable, you had remembered his comments when your mother had dropped by their house.

It wasn't until you turned off the shower and the steam lifting from your skin that you realized you had pulled the handle to the highest temperature it would go.

❄️

When the last of your boxes had been delivered and the tree placed off to the left of your brand new living room, your father hovered while your mother snapped a photo. She was in great spirits as she helped you unpack, grateful to have someone else to talk to that was not a co-worker.

"It's a brighter time now, sweetheart," she commented, sliding the knives into the block on the kitchen counter. "I spoke to Laurie this morning. I know you've been staying away from the news but they found the killer. Leonard Patz, can you believe it? It's such a sad story but at least the Barbers have their son back and can put this nightmare behind them."

"He's free?" you asked, balling up the last of the old newspaper that you'd boxed your plates and bowls in. "That's great news for them."

"Maybe now they can find some peace. Andy was mentioning them maybe moving away, getting a fresh start somewhere else."

You hoped that was true. Then you wouldn't have to face him. You had planned to talk to him, to let him know that both your actions were out of line but weeks had passed and you'd been careful not to dwell.

"It's finally coming together. Your apartment looks like a home," your mother remarked, a sad smile on her face. "You're still coming over on Christmas Eve, right?"

"Of course," you answered, watching her straighten up with pride.

You'd moved out a week after the incident, needing your own space. It wasn't that you didn't love being back home but the memories that resurfaced often made you want to be alone. You couldn't move past the guilt of what had transpired, your mother still bringing up how Laurie was in a deep depression and that the Barbers were having a rough time. All of it meant that you needed to not bring up what had happened and to keep your distance.

With a satisfied sigh, your mother put her hands on her hips as she looked at her handiwork, tasteful Christmas decorations abound with twinkling lights that alluded warmth and cheer. Perhaps it was something you needed, you thought to yourself, as your father laid out the skirt under the tree.

"We can finish decorating tomorrow if you want. Otherwise your mother will have me out shopping again," he warned, your mother rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"We weren't even gone that long," she reminded him.

"Seven hours," your father corrected her, sweeping you into a hug. "It's going to be a good Christmas, you just wait."

Your mother placed a kiss on your forehead like she had always done since you were a child and you counted your blessings. They were good people and you were lucky to have them in your life and your father was right. Regardless of the circumstances, you had each other and it would be a good Christmas after all.

Once they left, you busied yourself with washing dishes, drying and putting them away when there was a knock at your door. You opened it quickly, thinking it was your mother on the side as she was prone to leaving things behind.

Instead, Andy stood there with a box in his hands, a sheepish smile on his lips.

"Andy?" you asked, bewildered at the sight of him. "How did you know where I lived?"

"Your mother told me. She's been helping Laurie through all of this and she mentioned you had moved."

Your eyes dropped down to the box in his hands and he held it up.

"I bought you some ornaments. Sort of like a housewarming, I guess."

Maybe now was as good a time as ever to talk it over, let him know how you were dealing with all of this. To apologize for the position you had found yourself in.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked, opening the door slightly wider for him to pass through. "I figured we could talk."

He let out a small sigh of relief with a short nod.

"Sure. I think we need to talk as well."

He placed the box on the counter, waiting for you to direct him to an open seat on the couch while you sat on the other side, hands in your lap while you figured out how you wanted to begin.

"Andy, I -"

“Your visit got approved,” he interrupted you. “You can see him in two days. Uninterrupted. No plexiglass.”

“What?” You couldn’t believe your ears as a smile broke out, happy tears burning your eyes. “Do you mean it?”

“Sure do. It’s not long time mind you, just a few hours but I figured that it would be enough.”

Relief flooded you as you nodded, wiping away a tear. You’d get to hug him, feel his warmth and be able to touch him, no glass under your fingertips.

“Are you happy?” he asked you, leaning back against the couch as he looked around your place. “It looks nice in here. You do this all by yourself?”

“I am happy,” you answered, your mind still racing with questions and plans. You could maybe give him a gift before Christmas, talk to him about his appeal. There was still the task of asking for the time off of work. “And no, my mother did it all. She’s big on holidays.”

He nodded slowly, giving you a smile. Guilt flooded you again and you leaned forward, hands in your lap.

“Thank you so much, Andy. I’m so grateful for you helping me. But we need to talk about what happened at the party.”

He relaxed, arm slung over the couch while he raised an eyebrow.

“At the party?”

“Yes,” you answered, trying to form the right words to convey how you were feeling. “I shouldn’t have gotten drunk. As much as I want to blame my dad’s punch, I just wanted to not have to deal with Christmas and I knew that my chances with getting that visit were slim to none and I was fine with it, I understood. I guess I just didn’t want to be around all those people and try to be happy.”

When you paused, he nodded for you to continue, wringing your hands as the thoughts came back from that night.

“What we did, I shouldn’t have done it… you’re married and Laurie -”

“What about her?” Andy asked, his voice low as he looked at you. “Do you think she needs to know? It was a simple lapse in judgement. I was at fault too. You just seemed like you needed a friend. Maybe we went too fast but I don’t regret it, do you?”

“Andy,” you protested. “It was wrong. You have to know that.”

“I do. I know what we did. I wanted to take care of you and I did. I can reconcile with the moral implications of it but Laurie and I haven’t exactly been the model husband and wife you’ve been hearing about. Whatever is between us, that night? It’ll be our secret, okay? You don’t need to feel bad for what happened just like I don’t. I said I was going to take care of you and I am, aren’t I? You’re getting to see your boyfriend, just like I promised.”

“I know but…” you trailed off, gripping your hands together. “We can’t do that again.”

Andy didn’t answer you, instead getting up from where he was sitting to grab the box of ornaments.

“Why don’t we finish decorating the tree and I’ll take a picture of you next to it. You can give it your boyfriend when you see him.”

It was obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He selected an ornament, a shiny red one that sparkled in the light.

“You wanna help me finish? The quicker we complete it, the sooner you can take your picture.”

You rose from the couch to stand next to him, selecting a green one that jingled with every movement. When you got to the tree, you found a space and reached on your tiptoes, trying your best to hook it onto a branch. A hand at the small of your back steadied you as you placed it, Andy looking up at the tree as he placed another one.

You both worked in silence, hands brushing ever so often as you reached for another ornament. When the last one was placed, you looked at the tree and gave a satisfied nod. It was impressive, you would say that much.

It felt strange, looking at a tree that he did not help decorate, let alone choose. That had been your tradition for years – selecting a tree and picking a theme. It had been your father who had suggested the artificial tree, the decorations provided from your mother and now Andy. It should have been him where Andy was standing, your phone in your hand before he took it from you.

“Ready?”

“Wait!” you squeaked, running into your bedroom and slamming the door.

You waded through the various shirts and sweaters until you came across his old Columbia sweatshirt, pulling it on before you headed back outside.

Andy’s expression was one of amusement as you walked past him to get to the tree.

“Columbia? That’s where you went to school?”

“No, um, it’s his sweatshirt,” you admitted, knowing that it looked like you were swimming in it. You liked that best of all. “It’s my favorite.”

“I see,” Andy replied, his face hardening at that fact. He held up your phone. “Ready?”

You smiled as the flash went off, happy that you’d have something to show him when you went for your visit. A part of you even wanted to see if you could superimpose him onto the photo. A silly, fleeting thought but you entertained for a little as Andy handed you back your phone.

“So, you get four hours but maybe I’ll see if I can stretch to six. Would that work?”

“Six?” you didn’t want to get your hopes up but you would always take more time.

“I’ll make the call. Got your tree all set up. The ornaments I bought look really good on the tree. Matches the ones already on there almost perfectly.”

He picked up the empty box, giving one last look at tree before he looked back at you, giving a small smile.

“Enjoy your visit with him,” he said, turning on his heels to leave. “I’ll see you around.”

“Andy?”

He turned, waiting for you to continue.

“Thank you. For this time I get to spend with him. And I’m sorry about… about how things played out.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I told you, I’m always going to make sure you’re taken care of.”

❄️

You inhaled the faintest smell of soap as you buried your head against his neck, strong arms still holding you tight as you let the tears stream down your face.

“It’s okay,” the deep voice soothed. “I’m right here.”

You didn’t want to move. Maybe if you wished hard enough, this was all just a horrible nightmare that would be over soon.

“How did you manage this?” he asked, his mouth pressing a kiss to your forehead gently. “I got the news only an hour before you came and I couldn’t believe it.”

“Someone was watching out for me.”

“Who?”

His hands settled on the sides of your face, his nose touching yours.

“Whoever they are, I owe them big.”

“Just a friend who knows someone. After the break in, they pulled some strings for me.”

You wouldn’t say who. It was better to have them be anonymous than have his appeal be put in jeopardy.

“I love you,” he vowed, kissing you twice before he lingered on your lips. “Jesus, I just… talk about the best surprise ever.”

You reached down between your legs, holding up a bag as he looked at it questioningly.

“It’s your first gift,” you replied, handing it to him as he settled you on his lap.

“They let you in with this?”

“They inspected it already and gave the all clear. It’s not the surfing Santa wrapping paper, I know. Try to be disappointed.”

You looked at his face, the small cut that had once been etched into his skin now gone.

“No more fights?” you asked, in a warning tone.

“I promised, didn’t I? No fights. Plus, I got someone looking out for me,” he said, lifting the blue jacket from the bag. “No way. Honey, this is great.”

“Do you like it?”

His wide smile of appreciation told you that he did, the way he pulled it on and looked at the sleeves. It was a practical gift, not one that you would have given at such a time like this but it mean that he would be warm and that was what mattered.

“Are you kidding me? It’s great.”

“You said you had someone looking out for you?” you pressed, wondering what he meant by his comment.

“Yeah, older dude. Took me under his wing and keeps me out of trouble. Name’s Billy.”

“Nice guy?”

“Nice enough. Gets a little hot tempered but they respect him so I figure I got a good shot of being on good behavior if I stay out of trouble.”

“What did the lawyers say?”

“Still looks good for an appeal. They aren’t giving up hope and neither should you.”

“I’m not,” you protested, folding the bag and placing it on the table. “I just want everything to go well.”

“Enough of that,” he countered. “How was the Christmas party? Your dad had mentioned it last time he came by to visit. He said you were really wasted.”

“I was,” you agreed, unwilling to share anything further. Guilt crept up again at the thought of the party and you shook your head with a dry laugh. “You know him and his Christmas punch.”

“Don’t I know it. Everything went okay though? I know your mom stresses about these parties.”

“Not as much,” you responded, glad to take the subject off of you for the moment. “They seem to get bigger and more grandiose every year. Dad goes along for the ride but it’s weird how it’s now this event that people look forward to. She loves it.”

You glanced at your watch, saddened to see you only had an hour left. It had been absolutely worth it, watching your fingers intertwined with his. As far as you were concerned, this was the best present you could ask for.

❄️

You pushed your cart down the aisle, stopping to pick up a bag of flour when you heard familiar voices. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Laurie and Andy, Laurie’s face fixed in a frown as Andy followed behind.

“What about what I want, Andy? Did you ever think of that?” Laurie fumed, slowing her cart as she saw you. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi Laurie,” you greeted back, placing a bag of sugar in your cart as you turned back to the rest of the baking products. “Andy.”

“It’s good to see you,” Laurie said warmly. “How are you? Your mother said you had a new place?”

“Yeah, I moved there about almost a month ago. It’s nice. Quiet.”

“That’s so good. I’m glad you were able to find something so quickly,” she said with a nod. “Andy, I’m going to the produce aisle.”

“Sure thing,” he replied, his voice holding no emotion.

“It’s good to see you.” With a small wave of her hand, she turned the corner and you turned back to your list, feeling Andy’s eyes on you as he let out a long sigh.

“How was your visit?”

“It was great. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. It was so wonderful to be able to see him without the glass and just have him there with me.”

“Glad you were able to do it.”

You selected a can of cherries as he cleared his throat behind you.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah, for the most part. Just getting some baking supplies for the holidays,” you answered, pushing your cart down the aisle a little further as he followed behind.

“I want to see you again.”

You stopped the cart, fingers gripping the bar as you shook your head.

“No, I can’t. It was a lapse in judgement, remember?”

You heard him pause, the tension rising in your back.

“I had to call in a few favors for you. It’s not easy skirting around the regulations. We both get what we want, right? You get to see him and I get to see you. I’d hate for that arrangement to change, wouldn’t you?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denying Andy has consequences. Neal Loguidice shines a devastating light on the past visit to the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Andy, Andy, Andy.

Your fingers ran over the leather grain heated seat while Andy's eyes focused on the road. The drive to your destination had been at least over an hour, maybe more, since you'd taken his call to meet you outside. He had worn you down eventually as you knew that he would, calls and texts checking on your well being and reminders that good things could come to an end. Your visits hung in the balance and you were aware that your selfishness of not wanting to give them up made you reason that this trek outside of the city was justified. A few hours with Andy would pay off in the long run.

The cold air stung once you opened the door, the tiny restaurant freshly painted with the logo overhead. It was a known staple and tradition of early risers and breakfast aficionados in this state, even if it was far from home. Andy's mood had lightened considerably the more distance was placed between the city to where you found yourself now. There was no talk of Laurie and the look on her face when she saw you, nor the fact that you had heard them arguing. Deep down, you had a suspicion that the topic was about you but you brushed it off, staring out the window as soft holiday jazz music played, the theme of snow blanketing everywhere fitting the background that passed with every mile.

The waitress tilted the coffee pot into your mug, giving you a small smile before she disappeared again. It was early, with only a few patrons inside that made it seem more intimate than it already was.

"We're going out of town," Andy informed you, placing his mug back down on the table gently. "Now that this is all over with, we need a break."

"That's good for the three of you, right?" You asked, hopeful that they would find peace. As you dumped a sugar packet into your coffee and stirred it slowly, you hoped that you would find peace as well.

"Depends on who you’re asking. Laurie feels like we've grown apart. This ordeal has been trying and we've been put through the ringer but I can't say that this was the catalyst for us being on different sides of the fence. It's been there for a long time. I think this trial and bullshit just shined a light on it."

His shoulders drooped before he took another sip, the half eaten steak and eggs that the restaurant was famous for pushed to the side.

"This is the my last effort. Fly to Mexico for Christmas, see where that takes us and if it's a reconciliation then I'll cross that path when it comes. But I don't think it's going to change anything. She wants to try. I at least owe her that."

"She loves you," you tried to say, watching his head nod as his lips thinned into a frown.

”Maybe. Or she’s just gotten good at pretending. Like I have.”

You said nothing else as you crumpled your napkin onto your empty plate. In any other setting, you would have given advice as best you could. It appeared his mind was already made up.

”How’s the boyfriend, though? You’ve been awfully quiet since you saw him last.”

”He’s doing well. As well as can be considering the circumstances. Bought him a Christmas present. He really liked it.”

You hoped the more you talked about him, the more Andy could see where your heart was.

“That’s sweet of you. I guess I’ll have to give you your present after the holidays.”

”Andy, you don’t have to do that. Really.” You shook your head quickly, ignoring the fact he was frowning again.

”Of course I do. You’re important to me.”

”But I didn’t get you anything,” you blurted out. Maybe that was enough for him to not get you something. It wouldn’t be an equal exchange.

"You're enough. Trust me."

The reply was forceful enough for you to know there would be no arguing back.

The waitress came by, sweeping up the plates as she placed the bill next to Andy.

“You all have a good day,” she bid cheerfully.

Andy picked it up, staring at you for a moment.

“Thank you. We will.”

The ride back was quiet, your thoughts in a million different directions. News that Andy was going to be gone for Christmas gave you a reprieve from the awkwardness that you had wondered would take place if he was around. He’d found a way to insert himself into your life – being the savior when your apartment was broken into, helping you hang the Christmas decorations in your apartment and now taking you to breakfast. You played with the promise ring that had been on your finger for over four months, given to you days before his life – and yours – had changed.

At your heavy sigh, he raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?”

“This,” you began, motioning between him and yourself. “Breakfast was a nice gesture but we’re out so far. It’s because you don’t want Laurie to know, am I right?”

“I don’t want the questions if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s what I mean,” you stressed. “I’m not your wife. A few weeks ago I was a blip on your radar. Forgettable. This isn’t right and you know it.”

“We’re back to that again. You could have said no this morning. Or the day prior. I wouldn’t have been happy with it but I would have understood. I’m an attorney, sweetheart, I know when a game is being played. You don’t want to give up those visits and I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

Furious that he had already caught on, you stayed quiet as he clenched his jaw.

“You know what I want. I’ve been clear with the fact that I want to take care of you. You’ve been receptive, you can’t deny that no matter how much you want to. You miss having someone to watch out for you and I miss having someone who responds to me. That night at the party, I realized… I realized I want more. Something else, I don’t know. Breakfast was a start.”

“No,” you replied, glaring at him. You’d allowed too much already.

“No, huh? Then you can kiss those visits goodbye. They’re more for you than they are for him. He’s never getting out.” His voice was sharp with anger, the car picking up speed as he spoke.

“You don’t know that.” The trees blurred past with every second he accelerated. “Andy, slow down.”

“You think Neal would allow an inch of possibility? I taught him what he knows.”

“Stop the car,” you ordered, your voice trying to find the edge of the authority that was building in your chest. “I’d rather walk.”

“You think I’m going to let you freeze out there? Really?”

“Slow down,” you demanded, your voice seizing with fear. “Please.”

You felt the speed dip down and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure.

“You don’t want to see me anymore? Fine. I’ll drop you off back home and that’s it. You get what you want.”

There was something in the way he spoke that made you nervous as familiar landmarks came into view.

“I’m guessing my other visits will be out of the question,” you remarked. You wanted to know the truth so that you could process it.

“I guess so,” he answered.

Once the car stopped at your apartment, you opened the door, looking back at him as he stared straight ahead, fingers gripping the wheel tightly.

“I’m sorry that you don’t understand why I can’t do this,” you offered, your way of trying to ease the tension.

“Have a good Christmas,” Andy responded.

The moment you closed the door, the car took off, leaving you standing on the sidewalk alone.

❄️

You’d been pacing for twenty minutes, holding the phone in your hand as you looked at the screen. Normally you’d call to confirm your scheduled time to visit, just in case there was a change. Sometimes his meetings with his lawyers ran long and you had to wait but your appointment could not be found when you called. You’d asked to speak with someone higher and the answer had been the same but that they were looking into it.

At the first sound of your ringtone, you swiped the button over to answer, almost in a panic as you said hello.

“This is Neal Loguidice,” the voice on the other end introduced. “I’m returning your call about your inquiry to your scheduled visits.”

At the sound of Neal’s name, you lowered yourself to the couch, clutching the phone against your ear as your emotions roiled inside you. He said your name once more before you realized you’d been silent.

“I’m here,” you answered, trying to fend off the shaking that seemed to take hold. “Is there an issue?”

“I need to speak with you in person, if you’re able.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I’d like for this conversation to be conducted face to face, if you can. Today, if possible.”

At least a minute passed before you finally answered, nodding your head while the acceptance formed on your lips.

“I’ll be there.”

“Thank you. I’ve got the next two hours free if you’re available.”

“Of course. Just let me put on some shoes.”

The moment you hung up, you grabbed your keys and headed straight for the car, trying your best to ignore the nagging feeling that someone had gone horribly wrong. It was only a few more days until Christmas and true to his word, you hadn’t heard or seen Andy, mostly spending the last nights up until now wrapping presents and listening to your father’s Christmas playlist as your mother dragged you both to various stores for last minute gifts.

Now, as you stood at the courthouse building, you felt a twinge of fear as you headed up the steps, placing your bag on the counter to be scanned before you went through the metal detector.

Neal met you in the lobby, extending his hand slowly as you shook it.

“I know it’s short notice but I appreciate you being flexible. There’s a meeting room down the hall. Follow me.”

You passed by people that seemed like a blur, your eyes on his back as he turned a corner and opened a door to a conference room.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”

“No thank you,” you denied, lowering yourself into a chair as he closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

Once he settled into a chair, he straightened his back, a notepad and a pen of paper in front of him.

“This is in regard to the scheduled visits that you’ve been having. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you but the visits are on hold indefinitely pending an investigation.”

At his words, anxiety spread in your belly, your hands clasped together on the table.

“Indefinitely? Did something happen?”

Neal clicked his pen, scribbling something on his notepad.

“Security clearances are reviewed daily. There was a discrepancy found on the day you visited.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Neal let out a low sigh, leaning back in his chair as he studied you.

“A few days ago a request was filed to temporarily halt your supervised visits that came from the prison. When requests like that come in, they review all the clearances for that particular individual.”

Air went out of your lungs as you froze. His words hummed in your ear like white noise while you processed what he was saying. It had to be Andy’s doing, you realized, anger and fear gripping your gut.

“Unauthorized unsupervised visits are a direct violation of his agreement. This puts his appeal process in jeopardy. I’m not blaming you for this. I want you to know that. I reviewed the footage and it appears you followed the rules to the exact letter. But this doesn’t excuse the fact that he knew he wasn’t supposed to do it. It was his responsibility to speak up and he didn’t.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” you protested, shaking your head quickly. “Did he know he wasn’t allowed to have those visits? They weren’t very clear when we... when he was...”

Your voice cracked and Neal gave you a sympathetic smile.

“It was spelled out very clearly during his processing. Which means he had help. Do you know anyone who would have had access?”

It could be so easy to say Andy. But then it would put your future visits in jeopardy, let alone his retaliation if he found out you told. But you didn’t want him to lose his appeal, either. He had sounded so hopeful that he would finally get a break.

“I know this is hard news. But we aren’t sure if someone put him up to it, either. Sometimes there is a trade, this isn't unheard of. You break a rule for someone else to get away with something bigger. I’m trying to help him. I know it doesn’t seem like it and I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but I assure you that I’m serious about this.”

“I don’t know who it was.”

Neal hesitated for a moment, the pen tapping against the notepad.

"I'm told that he's sharing a cell with Billy Barber. Do you know who that is?"

You shook your head. The only thing you noticed was the last name. Immediately, your eyes grew wide. It had to be a coincidence.

"Billy Barber is the father of Andy Barber. Your boyfriend and Mr. Barber are cellmates. Mr. Barber isn't known for his friendliness, let's just say. Which is why I think that this visit was done so that Mr. Barber could take the heat off of himself. He's been known for his brutality and there's been a few brawls that have resulted in some hospitalizations."

"You think Mr. Barber is behind this?"

"I don't know. He'll never tell me. Billy isn't a fan of the law."

“Do you think… I’m sorry,” you apologized, covering your mouth to silence the cry that was beginning to erupt from your throat.

“I know this isn’t the news you expected. I don’t know how filed the injunction to halt the supervised visits. I’d be happy to continue looking but it could have been flagged for a number of reasons. Insubordinate behavior, fighting, you name it.”

Your mind immediately went to the fight that he had told you about and you wondered if he had gone against his promise and gotten into another one.

“Do you know when it will be lifted?”

Neal shook his head.

“Probably not until after the new year. First week of January at the earliest. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the best news to give you but I wanted to be upfront and give you an honest answer.”

You nodded, tears dripping down your cheeks.

He plucked a tissue out of the holder and handed it to you as you wiped your eyes.

“I’ll keep in touch if I found out anything. Try to have a good holiday.”

❄️

You’d trained yourself well to not break down in front of others. It wasn’t until you got into your car that you finally let the emotions that had built up break, body convulsing with grief and sadness. You didn’t want to believe that Andy was that cruel to take away your visits and you had a nagging suspicion that there had most likely been a fight, which in turn only made you more upset that he would have lied to you.

The more you dwelled on a Christmas without seeing him, let alone talking to him, the more desperate you became, calling Andy’s number at least twice before you came to your senses and hung up. You didn’t want to go home to your already empty apartment.

When you finally started the car and pulled onto the busy street, your phone rang as Andy’s number lit up the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I saw you called twice. Everything okay?”

At the concern in his voice, you couldn’t stop the tears, your voice shaky with emotion as you answered.

“They-they blocked his visits. I can’t – I can’t see him,” you sobbed.

“Hold on,” Andy requested, the background noise muffled as you heard him talking to someone. “What happened? Who blocked the visit?”

“I don’t know. But it’s Christmas and I was… I was supposed to see him.”

“Who told you that you couldn’t see him?”

“Neal told me. I just came from the courthouse.”

You inhaled sharply, trying to maintain some type of composure. Andy seemed just as surprised as you did and your mind pivoted back to what could have taken place. He always did love a good fight, be it verbal or physical when he was challenged.

“That means it came from the prison. Listen, let me make some calls for you, okay? It’s probably a misunderstanding or a small violation that can be cleared up. Sometimes it’s simply an admin error or someone went too far”

“Okay,” you answered. “I’m so sorry to call you, I just didn’t know what to do.”

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll get back to you if I hear anything, okay? Until then, just hang tight. I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. “Thank you.”

❄️

In your parents’ usual fashion, they welcomed you back home with open arms, sandwiched between your mother and father as they hugged you tightly at the news. You knew without a doubt that both of them would pull out all the stops to make sure this was a holiday that you would remember. Your father did just that, pulling out a movie projector where you sat through home movies of various Christmases that made you laugh.

Even when you were sad and it got to be too much, your parents listened to you and understood that you were not going to be your usual self. You put on a brave front and by Christmas morning, even clad in the ridiculous matching pajamas that your mother coerced you and your father to wear, you felt better.

Your parents oohed and ahhed over their gifts, something you had prided yourself on since you had gotten old enough to pick up on their hints. You’d gotten everything you had wanted on your list, even if it was a longshot with some of the items.

By the time you’d gotten home two days later, you were so thankful that you had been gifted with such loving parents that you took in the tree that your father had placed in the living room, the decorations that your mother had put up and you smiled genuinely for the first time in months.

Once you had put everything away, you decided you’d keep the tree up until the first of the year, hoping it would bring you so good luck. You hadn’t heard from Andy but it had been Christmas after all and though you had tried to call the facility to see if you could even speak to him, you wanted to remain optimistic.

The sound of a knock caught your attention as you listened on the other side.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Andy.”

Opening the door, he stood with a present in his hands, tanned from his vacation as he looked at you with a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Come on in,” you greeted, opening the door wider to let him in.

He stared at the tree and the decorations as he turned on his heels to hand you the gift. It was a small rectangular box with decorative paper.

“I made a few calls. It wasn’t easy but I got an answer,” he said, watching as you listened to him. He nodded at the gift that was in your hands. “Go ahead. Open it.”

You picked at the paper shyly, peeling it back to reveal a black box. As you opened it, your eyes widened at the sparkling silver necklace with an olive branch pendant that was encrusted with diamonds.

“Andy,” you breathed, holding it up as you looked at him. “I… it’s beautiful but I can’t.”

“You can. You’ve been through a lot. Try it on.”

He took a step forward, taking it from you gently as he unclasped it and placed it over your neck, securing it in the back. It was gorgeous but you knew that it cost a lot. You’d seen the jewelry logo on the box. He’d spared no expense.

“Go look in the mirror.”

When you hesitated, he nodded to the hallway mirror and you took a few steps forward to look at it, settled above your chest as it sparkled as you moved.

“It’s very nice,” you admitted. “But Andy, I-”

“I did because I have some news. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll explain everything.”

More bad news. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

When you sat down, Andy followed suit, unzipping his heavy coat.

“There’s really no good way to say this but after some aggressive phone calls, I got an answer on why you’ve been blocked from your visits. There was a big blow up a few days leading up your visit. He let his anger get the best of them and threw a few punches on the wrong guy. He’s been hospitalized since then.” At your horrified face, he placed his hand over yours. “He’s fine. A few bruised ribs, a black eye but he’s gonna pull through.”

“He promised,” you began, eyes beginning to water as you covered your face in humiliation. So much for trust. “How could he do this?”

“It could have been for a number of reasons. People wanna pick on him, maybe he told someone he had a secret visit, I don’t know. Either way, when he gets released from the hospital, it doesn’t appear that he’ll be allowed to have anyone see him, at least for a little bit.”

Andy’s hand rubbed your back slowly and gently, trying to soothe you.

“I can’t take any more of this,” you confessed, Andy’s arms pulling you toward him as he hugged you tight.

You allowed yourself to be comforted, resting your head on Andy’s shoulder as you cried. It had been so long that you’d tried to be strong and everything was falling apart.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You felt his mouth against your forehead, the touch of him kissing you softly as he let you cry it out. You let your fingers grasp the necklace as his lips went lower, kissing the bridge of your nose as you looked up at him with tear stained eyes. Before you could speak, his mouth was against yours, kissing you slowly before you realized you were kissing him back.

“I can fix this. You need me,” he said against your mouth, his beard lightly scratching your lips. “Say it.”

He kissed you again, forceful this time as he gripped your chin, waiting for your answer. Maybe he was your only answer to helping you.

“I need you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument over the fight casts doubt on the appeal. As the wine begins to flow, Andy steps in to help.

Reaching for the receiver, you explored the bruises on his face, the inky bruise that covered his left eye, and his healing split lip. As Andy had promised, he'd researched and gotten back your monitored visits. As for the unsupervised ones, you weren't sure that you wanted to have them just by looking at his face. Disappointment flooded you as he took a seat, a fresh tattoo on his knuckles while you waited for him to speak.

"Long time no see," he began, a smile playing on his lips while he looked at you hopefully. "I thought it would be another few months before I saw your beautiful face."

"What happened?" you asked flatly. You wanted nothing but the truth. So much work and energy had gone into this relationship that seemed to now be hanging on by a thread.

He touched his eye for a moment as his eyes went downcast. The long sigh told you that it was going to be a story that you did not want to hear. The raw emotion was held heavy in your chest, your fingers gripping the receiver tight as you waited for his response.

"A misunderstanding, that's all. If it's any consolation, I didn't throw the first punch this time," he replied jokingly.

Silence stilled the conversation, your lips set into a frown. He had to be aware of the fact that his appeal hung in the process. If it was even still on the table.

"He was a big dude. Thought I had a chance but I guess I didn't. Knocked me out cold, went to the hospital for a little. Mild concussion so it was nothing serious. A few bruised ribs." He stopped at the sound of your cry, covering your face with your hand. "Baby, please don't cry. It's on me. This is all my fault. I didn't know they were going to use our visit against us, otherwise I never would have engaged."

"Why?" you asked.

"He knew the guy. Small fuckin' world in here, you know? Started to spout off how he recognized me." He hunched down in his seat, placing his hand on the window. "You gotta believe me. It was a setup. I think my cellmate put me up to it."

"He put you up to a fight? What would he gain for that?"

"Hell if I know," he answered you, his voice bitter. "But you should have seen him standing there. I didn't have any backup. He just let me fight alone and he was the one who got us outside in the first place.

"You could have walked away," you argued, beginning to lose your patience. He never could walk away from a fight.

"I could have, yeah. But then have them label me as weak? You don't know what it's like in here, okay? Watching my back every day, can't sleep sometimes because I don't know if some CO is gonna come in and beat the shit out of us. I have to prove that I'm strong," he defended, propping his elbows on the table as he narrowed his eyes at you. "I thought you'd understand that."

"You promised me." Your voice broke; his hand sliding down the glass at your words.

"Things change, honey. I could die in here if I don't defend myself."

"And your appeal?"

He shrugged as if he was indifferent to your question. Maybe he was, you thought to yourself, looking at the way his face was marked up.

"Seems like Loguidice isn't exactly rushing to hear anything my lawyer has to say since the fight. They'll try again in a few weeks, I guess. I don't know."

"You're giving up," you shot back, feeling the pangs of tears beginning to form.

"I don't have a choice, do I? I don't need you reminding me that I messed up. You're out there, remember? Living your life and not having to worry about shit."

The receiver dropped from your fingers as you began to cry, your name being called out as you shook your head at his plea to pick up the phone.

"I'm sorry, baby. Please, just pick up the phone and we can talk," you heard him say over the receiver.

You hung up the phone, clutching your purse against you while you stood, turning away from him before you headed toward the door. As much as you wanted to look back, to see his face and try to understand his outburst, you were too hurt. As the door clicked behind you, you didn't bother to wipe away your tears as you headed to your car.

❄️

You poured the last contents of the bottle of wine in your hand into your waiting glass, the television playing in the background. Body warm and buzzing, you were waiting until you could surrender into the sweet abyss of surrender, which was by your calculations, one or two more glasses away. You hadn't cared that you'd worn your sunglasses indoors as you perused the aisles in the grocery store, eyes red and swollen from your tears. You'd gotten used to the stares. You'd been a pariah since the court appearances, people giving you sympathetic looks while your co-workers handled you with kid gloves. As far as you were concerned, you didn't need to explain yourself or look put together at the moment. Everything you'd been looking forward to had come crashing down and by his own hand.

It had been easy to ignore the vibration of your phone and spun in a circle on the coffee table. Your mother had been trying to each you for two hours, inquiring about your visit and the appeal. You didn't have it in you to discuss the recent event that had unfolded, let alone have her pick up on your wavering voice if you tried to explain. Popping open another bottle, you poured the glass to the brim as you swiped up your phone, not bothering to see who was on the caller ID.

"Mom," you began, speaking slowly so that she would not catch on that you'd had a few glasses. "What's up?"

"It's Andy."

"Oh," you said with a small sigh. "Andy, hi."

"You okay?"

"Sure," you answered, your voice raising an octave as you settled back against the couch. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I've been trying to call you. Trying to see how your visit was."

You scoffed, taking a large gulp of your wine that burned going down. "It was a disaster but it doesn't matter. I'm not going back there for a week or so."

"Oh? What happened?"

"He admitted he got into a fight. Can you believe that? He lied to me. He told me... he told me and he promised me that he wouldn't get into a fight. What a liar," you said, unsure if you wanted to laugh or cry. It seemed absurd now, having this discussion about him. He liked to fight. You knew that.

"Everything okay? You sound a little off."

"I've been drinking," you said with a smile, giggling into the phone as you took another sip. "Gonna get nice and drunk first and then go to sleep and pretend this day never happened."

"How much have you had to drink?"

You eyed the empty wine bottle and the one that was currently half-empty on the coffee table.

"Enough," you answered. "I'm good though. Really good."

"Yeah, sounds like it," Andy replied. You thought you heard the slam of a car door on the other end.

"I'm gonna... gonna finish my wine and then I'm going to sleep."

"You sound like you've had enough."

"Andy Barber, you aren't the boss of me," you admonished, your words slurring slightly. "I'm going to bed."

"Don't hang up on me," he ordered.

With a laugh, you pulled the phone away from your ear, looking at the display before you ended the call with a single touch of your finger, laughing to yourself as you downed the rest of your wine.

❄️

The sound of loud banging woke you from your sleep, your mouth dry from the alcohol. You had no idea of the time, only that the sound got louder, more demanding.

"Hold on!" you called out weakly, your legs like lead while you tried to move from the couch, falling onto your knees as you held onto the coffee table to get your bearings back. The knocking ceased at your command and when you finally wobbled toward the door, you saw Andy waiting for you.

"Andy," you said against the door, the cool wood feeling like heaven on your warm forehead. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you. You hung up on me and you were drunk. Making sure you're okay."

"I'm good," you managed to say, still trying to get your mouth to work properly. "I promise."

"I'd feel better if you opened up the door so I could see for myself."

With a sigh, you unlocked the door, peeking your head out so he could see you. He wasn't smiling. Nor did he look happy.

"What?" you asked, your eyes adjusting to the light outside.

"Can I come in?"

You wavered at the door, the effects of the wine still present as you shook your head.

"I'm fine. I already told you."

"You can barely stand," Andy observed with a frown. "Let me get you into bed at least. I heard what happened."

"How?" You stared back at him, still swaying slightly as you held onto the door. "Who told you."

"Nevermind who told me. Getting drunk isn't going to fix it."

"Whatever," you dismissed with a wave of your hand. "He wants to fight all the time so I'll let him. He doesn't give a shit about us anymore. It's fine."

At that, Andy stood closer to the door, his hand against it. Maybe it was your drunken state but you felt the door open wider as you tried to push against it. You saw him look at the wine bottles and he shook his head.

"This isn't the way to heal, you know. Trust me, I've tried," he murmured, looking back at you.

"He's throwing it away," you whispered, the familiar ache in your heart beginning to grow tenfold. "Throwing me away."

His touch barely grazed against your arm while he drew you to him. Tears began to spill down his sweater as he held you close. The sobs you drew were deep and loud, body shaking with every inhale.

"Shh, it's alright," Andy whispered against the top of your head. "I'm here. It's gonna be okay."

"It's not," you sobbed, burying your face into his neck. "He's gonna be there forever because he can't stop, Andy. He's always been like this. He just.... he was so good at hiding it and I should have known."

Andy didn't answer you, save for the hushed sound that came from his lips as he cradled you in his arms.

"Let's get you into bed," he urged, helping you toward your room as he closed the door behind him.

He left the light off, pulling open a drawer to find a t-shirt for you as you tried to compose yourself. You fell onto the bed, Andy giving you a small tut to lift your arms as he pulled your sweater over your head. Your arms fell at your side, watching the t-shirt unfolded in front of you.

"Arms up," he urged, before you hummed in response, trying to reach around to unfasten your bra. Your head was still swimming; fingers missing the clasps as he leaned over to help as you sagged against his chest.

"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling it go slack as it was pulled off of you.

You tilted backward and fell onto the bed, eyes closed as you felt the tug of your jeans and socks. Your body was still so warm and you were far away from the feelings you'd felt earlier in the night.

"You said you needed me," Andy began, breaking you out of your sleepy haze. "Did you mean it?"

"I did," you sighed, eyes still closed as you smiled. "You helped me."

"I did more than that, didn't I?"

You felt a warm sensation on the inside of your knee. A kiss, perhaps, though you weren't sure. Your stomach fluttered as the touch continued down the juncture of your thighs as you sighed in pleasure.

"Feels good," you whispered into the darkness.

"This feels right, doesn't it? LIke we were meant to be together?"

You felt his mouth, hot and wet against your cunt as he placed a kiss on your bundle of nerves while you drew up your legs in response at the stimulation.

"And...Andy..." you whispered, his tongue probing your entrance with soft licks. "What are you..."

"Shh, it's okay. I'm gonna make you forget all about today. Just relax. Can you do that for me?"

Lifting your head up felt like a chore, the darkness surrounding you once more as your fingers threaded through his hair. Every single swipe of his tongue against your folds felt intensified, your lips moving as no sound was produced.

"You're special, you know that?" he asked you, his mouth leaving you as you whined in response, dizzy with the pressure that was swirling in your core. You'd come to the edge, ready to be rewarded until it had paused. You were regretting the wine, your head still fuzzy as you felt something bigger against you.

"You still have me," Andy said against your ear as you felt your legs spread wider. "You'll always have me."

The stretch of your cunt caught you off guard as your eyes fluttered open, your thighs in Andy's hands as he pushed into you deeper, silencing a protest in your throat. Your head fell back on the pillow as he bottomed out inside you. It felt good, the slight sting of the stretch and how you throbbed around him. Your quickened breaths only gave him the urge to move, your fingers grasping the blankets as he picked up the pace.

"God, you're as good as I knew you would be. All mine, isn't that right, sweetheart?" he asked you. Your response was a moan of pleasure, still lost in your haze and the darkness. To you, he was like a dream. you were floating on a bliss-filled cloud, body pliant and at his will, as you moved with him. Skin to skin, the wet sounds lost in the tempo of his breathing. You were lucid enough for a moment to understand what was happening as you felt yourself careening toward the edge again.

"Condom," you mumbled against him, almost in a plea. "The top drawer..."

"We don't need one," he answered quickly, driving up into you with such a force that you winced. "Just you and me. Skin to skin like it should be."

With two short bursts, you felt him cum inside you as you followed behind, the sound belying your grief at what had transpired. Your feeble attempts to try to get away were futile, Andy still inside you as you opened your eyes slightly before he placed a kiss on your brow.

"You were perfect, sweetheart. Just rest. I've got you," he promised, watching you sink back into the abyss.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news gets worse after an ominous phone call.

"Sweetheart?"

Your mother sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as her hand gently shook you awake. You yawned, covering your mouth before cuddling back onto your pillow. Your body hurt but you wanted to sleep more than anything. You inhaled the scent of a faint cologne and wrinkled your nose in response. It still smelled of Andy, the memory of the night before flooding back to you, your fingers gripping the pillow in guilt.

"Mom?" you asked, your eyes still closed. "What's up?"

"There was an accident. Laurie and Jacob..." your mother's voice trailed off before you heard the unmistakable halt of her breath as she sniffled, making you open your eyes. She had her face covered with her hands as she cried, your arms outstretched as you pulled her into your arms to comfort her.

"What happened?"

"Car accident. God, I don't know. I got the call this morning. Both in intensive care. They don't know if they're going to make it. This year hasn't been horrible enough, apparently. Poor Andy," your mother worried, holding you tight, her embrace like a vice. "I just don't know how much more bad news any of us can take."

You rubbed her back soothingly, trying to fight back your own tears for Laurie and Jacob. You hoped they would pull through. Despite everything you'd gone through, you didn't want anyone to suffer. The guilt in your chest was heavy as you sighed, a tear rolling down your cheek as your mother inhaled deeply, wiping her eyes with a small smile, trying to be brave.

"I've been a complete mess all morning since I got the call. Andy's been at the hospital since he heard. He won't leave her side."

"Of course not," you agreed with a nod of your head. "I'd do the same."

Your mother smoothed out her shirt, looking around your bedroom in what you knew was judgment. Peeling off the covers, you realized you were half-naked below, ripping them back up to cover you up to your chest.

"Is everything okay? You seem a little jumpy," she observed with a raised eyebrow. "I saw the empty wine bottles on the counter. You've never been much of a drinker. You can tell me if you need anything, you know. I'm always here."

The emotion in your mother's voice, knowing that she would do anything for you, made the dam break inside of you. Covering your face with your hands, you dissolved into a painful cry, your mother pulling you against her as she smoothed down your hair.

"Oh, my baby," she whispered, her arms trembling. "What happened?"

You had no idea where to start. The prison sentence, the longing and eventual disappointment that he would never get out because of his behavior. The fact that you tried to deny Andy and he still made sure he had you. So many things wrong in such a small space of time. With Andy at his wife's bedside, you felt even worse at his behavior and your own. Nothing could wake you from this nightmare.

The solace in your mother's arms was all you needed, your wet cheeks pressed against her sweater as she rocked you back and forth.

"Whatever it is, we'll get through it together. You have me and your dad. You aren't alone."

❄️

Work had been slow, your lower back aching slightly from sitting the majority of the day. Most of the time you were out and about. House appraisal was boring work but it kept you busy and that was what mattered the most. You hadn't heard from Andy in almost three weeks, your mother keeping you updated on Laurie and Jacob's progress. It appeared that Andy was still at their bedsides, the hospital his second home. It was where he needed to be and you told yourself that he was finally understanding what was important in his life. When the time was appropriate, you would address your actions and his own.

Your cell vibrated loudly on your desk, the number unfamiliar while you let it ring. The last thing you needed was another distraction. The phone silenced and you flipped through your appointment book, hearing it once more. The same number popped up on the screen and you swiped to answer it.

"Hello?"

"You've been busy," the voice responded. "You're a hard woman to catch."

"Who is this?" you frowned at the brash timbre of the voice.

"Your boyfriend's cellmate."

Your heart felt like it plummeted to your toes. Your fingers gripped the phone, your body stiff at the news.

"What do you want?"

"To talk. We're like family now, aren't we? Seeing as you're fucking my son."

"I don't know you," you replied, your voice shaking with anger. "I'm not... I'm not sleeping with Andy."

"My son is a handsome guy and he has no reason to lie to me. Laurie's always been a little stuck up bitch. Like his cunt mother. Heard you're a good girl. Come from good family. He could use some goodwill right now."

"I'm hanging up now," you announced, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"You hang up on me and you know what will happen? They're gonna find your boyfriend's body in the dumpster. You got that?"

You paused, sucking in a breath as tears brimmed at your eyes. You had no idea how he had gotten your number, let alone the fact that he knew about Andy and you. All signs pointed to Andy and yet, you were unsure of why he would do such a thing.

"You still with me?"

"Yes," you answered quietly. "What do you want?"

"I want a visit. See what all the fuss is about."

"No," you denied.

The thought of having to visit the prison, to see the man who shared the same cell as your boyfriend, the one who you knew had influenced him to turn into what he was now, made your stomach churn. Nor could you fathom the thought of knowing that he was Andy's father, watching you from behind the same plexiglass that you'd watched your boyfriend. You weren't close to family. You were anything but.

"Suit yourself. I'd hate for something bad to happen to him. He's been on his best behavior lately. Whining about how much he wants to do right by you. Pathetic, seeing as you're sleeping with my son."

"I'm not," you argued back, hearing his dark laughter on the other end.

"Then come and tell me all about it. You don't want his hard work to go to waste, do you?"

You closed your eyes, trying to maintain your composure at his question. A small visit would be enough to appease him, to get him off your back. After you exhaled slowly, you knew you had no other choice.

"When?"

❄️

Light blue eyes stared at you as Billy motioned to the receiver with a nod of his head. You blinked slowly, lifting your hand to pick it up and placed it at your ear. Usually, the room had people bustling in and out but at this moment, it was just you and him. He said your name with a smirk, your eyes lifting back up to his.

"Now I remember who you are. Your father used to be an accountant. Retired, right? Decent man, from what I've heard. Your mother runs a non-profit. That's good. You come from good stock."

"Where is he?" you asked timidly, watching Billy as he shook his head slowly.

"You don't get to ask the questions. I do. From what I hear, you're a good girl. How did you manage to get caught up with your boy?"

"We met during his senior year in college. Been together ever since."

Billy cocked his head to the side as if he didn't believe you.

"You happy?"

"I am."

He let out a loud bark of laughter.

"Don't bullshit me. You're miserable. I can see it in your face."

You got a small burst of courage and you leaned forward. You didn't want to play any more games.

"What do you want with me?"

"I can't look at the girl that makes my son happy?" Billy asked you innocently. "He used to come here a lot. Mostly for the case, never about me. No father-son time on his watch. Now he's got a kid of his own, can't be bothered with his old man."

"How do you know about me?"

"I got friends too, sweetheart," Billy informed you, leaning his arms on the counter. "Been making sure Andy's been staying out of the way and lo and behold, I'm told he's got a pretty little thing on the side. He didn't come clean to me at first, that bastard. Trying to hide you from me."

"I'm not his thing on the side. I'm not anything," you shot back angrily. "This is ridiculous."

"Careful," Billy warned, his eyebrow raised. "Remember who you're speaking to. Ball's still in my court."

"Don't hurt him." You tried to sound authoritative but you knew you had failed, your voice still shaking.

"Why do you care what I do to him? You've got a good setup. Nice family. Andy's marriage is all but over so that means you're next in line, future Mrs. Barber."

"No, I'm not."

"You don't make the rules, sweetheart. He does. Let me ask you something," Billy began, narrowing his eyes at you with a flash of yellowed teeth. "Is he buying you gifts already? Met the parents? Spent Christmas with you?"

He'd done it all. Bought you a gift, that necklace that you touched that was still around your neck. He'd met your parents multiple times, even attending the Christmas party your parents had thrown without Laurie. He'd even helped you decorate your tree. He'd inserted himself into your life and you hadn't even known that you had allowed it.

"He'll put a baby in you and you're done. Then we'll really be family, won't we? You won't need that sorry excuse of a boyfriend."

Speechless, you glared at him, his words echoing in your mind.

"As I said, you don't need him," Billy continued, standing up as you followed suit.

"Where are you going?"

"He and I are going to have a little heart to heart."

"You can't," you whimpered. "Please don't."

Billy hung up the receiver as he winked, letting the officers come to escort him back to his cell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal brings more bad news as Andy's personal life takes a turn.

The last person you expected to hear from was Neal.

He’d called you before your alarm woke you up, your fingers fumbling with the phone that was tangled in the sheets before you answered. It was a simple request but one that was dripping with a warning and you knew Neal would not tell you anything further if you asked for more details.

You showered, forcing back down the nausea that taken hold for the past three weeks before you brushed your teeth and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, slipping on your shoes before you left the house. The drive to the courthouse was quiet, your mind focused on what you thought Neal would tell you next.

Billy’s words still echoed in your ear from time to time and now, it was all but a roar between your ears as you parked the car, unmoving in your seat as the thoughts racked up in your brain of what Neal wanted to tell you.

There had been radio silence from Andy, save for a phone call that you had missed. Every fiber of your being had told you to stay away, to let him grieve and take care of his family. In return, you had gone back to the quiet life you had once lived. Before Andy Barber had taken over.

The cold bit around your fingers as you slammed the door closed, the alarm chirping behind you while you made your way up the steps.

Neal waited for you while the officer poked through your purse before he let you through the metal detector. He straightened his tie, the expression on his face one of sadness as he walked down the hallway with you in tow. You gripped the strap of your purse, worry washing over you as he opened the door to a conference room and motioned for you to take a seat.

“I’m sorry to call you on such short notice. But I told you that I’d keep in touch with you if I found out anything,” Neal began, his lips pursed as he paused. “There is no easy way to say this.”

Your heart pounded rapidly at his words, your body leaning forward almost involuntarily at his impending news.

“There was another fight. This time against his cellmate. Your boyfriend will be transferred to another institution. Out of state.”

The box of tissue was slid in front of you before the first tear fell. Your throat opened and closed, painful without a sound as you tried to breathe. Your lips quivered violently before your body caught up with your broken heart as a sob ascended from your mouth.

“No,” you cried out, the tissue soaked against your cheeks. “Please, don’t.”

“It’s out of my hands,” Neal informed you quietly, his voice low as he tried to soothe you. “This is above me.”

“It wasn’t his fault!” you tried to say, your words muffled against the thickness of your throat. “It was Billy. Did you even investigate?”

“We’ve done what we could. Security footage shows your boyfriend going berserk. Unrestrained rage. It was the final straw. Everything is off the table. Including visits for at least six months.”

“I want to see him. Please, he was upset about something. That’s why he lashed out. This is a setup.” Your words only made Neal more focused on you, your fingers swiping at the tears that continued to fall.

“How do you know it was a setup? Did he tell you that? He hasn’t had a visit from you in weeks. Guards said that he made you pretty upset.”

“He did but it doesn’t matter anymore. Please,” you begged, trying to hold onto any semblance of resolve. “I just want to see him.”

“You can’t. He’s back in the hospital, with more injuries. Once he’s treated for them, he gets transferred.”

You shook your head, Neal’s mouth closing in defeat.

“I know this isn’t the news you wanted to hear. He was doing fine for a little and there is no reason why he can’t course-correct once he’s at a new facility. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I wish it was better news.”

“Do you?” you asked, your eyes narrowing as the tears blurred your vision. “You put him there in the first place.”

“Don’t,” Neal instructed, his jaw clenched as he shook his head. “Don’t turn this around on me. He did the crime. The trial was fair. The jury spoke. This isn’t about me. This isn’t even about you. This is about the justice system and how it prevailed. He had multiple chances to do right. He didn’t.”

You pushed the box of tissues away, trying to compose yourself with every shuddered breath.

“So Billy gets to stay. Was that on Andy’s order too?”

“Andy doesn’t get a say,” Neal retorted quickly, almost in a reprimand of your suggestion. “He’s got bigger things to take of now that Laurie’s out of the hospital. They’re getting a divorce so no, I don’t think that he really cares about what happens to his father either way. Billy’s in solitary confinement for the moment. Even prisoners get time out.”

At the news of the divorce and the solitary confinement, you push back your chair, your heart heavy with sadness.

“Thank you, Neal. Thank you for giving me the worst news at a time when I needed to hear something good.”

❄️

The timer on your phone had gone off two minutes ago as you hovered over the bathroom counter. You’d driven out of town to buy the tests, making sure no one noticed you as you paid for them and stuffed them into your purse.

_"He'll put a baby in you and you're done. Then we'll really be family, won't we? You won't need that sorry excuse of a boyfriend."_

It appeared that by the positive lines that you focused on, Andy had done just that.

Your legs collapsed out from under you, your thighs hitting the closed toilet seat loudly as you covered your mouth to keep the scream that was itching to come out. You tossed the test in the trash, covering your face as your shoulders shook with the force of your cry.

There was no one you could turn to. Your parents, especially your mother, would be appalled at the news. Word would get out and then your reputation would be ruined. Divorced or not, there was no way you could imagine trying to tell Andy without him already trying to insert him into your life before this realization.

The person you would have confided in before all of this had transpired, was now seemingly out of reach.

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear the phone ring until it nearly vibrated off the counter. It was Andy and you debated answering it.

Against your better judgment, you placed the phone up to your ear, waiting to hear him speak.

“Hey,” Andy breathed. “Neal told me what happened. I’m so sorry.”

At the mention of Neal, you wiped away your tears.

“Yeah, well. I guess both of you got your way after all. Neal got his justice and you got me, right?”

“Don’t,” Andy warned, his voice laced with irritation. “I’ve got enough to worry about right now. Jacob’s still in the hospital, Laurie and I are… we’re through.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you replied, trying to temper your anger. “I’m sure you’ll make it through.”

“What’s really the matter? You’re upset that he’s being moved? You think I had something to do with it?”

“Maybe,” you answered, fighting back tears. “Your father warned me. Said the ball was in his court.”

“I’m not my father,” Andy snapped, his anger rising as you heard him huff. “Whatever he told you, it’s bullshit.”

“Is it? How does he know who I am, Andy? God, I just… look what you’ve done. You strung me along and you preyed on me.”

“I preyed on you? Listen to yourself. Everything that’s happened, you’ve _let_ me do.”

At his statement, you balked. He'd been there during the lowest points in your life under the guise of trying to help you. You didn't need his help anymore.

Especially not now.

You pulled out a duffel bag, intent on getting away for the night. Maybe more, depending on your mood. You needed to get away, clear your head before you made any more decisions.

“I let you do it? You never told Laurie what you did, not once! Everything you did for me, you told me to keep a secret! You treated me like a secret.”

At that, you broke down, haphazardly shoving clothes into the bag as you cradled the phone against your ear, eager to hear his rebuttal.

“You aren’t a secret. I wanted to help you, I did. I didn’t think we’d come as far as we have. I don’t regret that.”

“Had,” you countered. “This isn’t a thing anymore, Andy. It never should have been.”

“No,” Andy clipped. “You don’t get to pull the rug out from under me.”

“You were a married man! And the things I did, the things we… you had no remorse. Not one single guilt about it, did you?”

“My marriage was ending. Was I supposed to feel guilty for wanting to be needed?”

You tossed the bag over your shoulder, heading out the door as the cool air hit your wet face. It already felt good to be out of your house, away from 

“Whatever, Andy. Don’t call me again.”

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me,” he shouted. “I swear to God.”

“Or what? You’ve already ruined my life.”

With a single press of a button, you ended the call, tossing your phone in your bag as you started the car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life takes a turn when Andy forces his hand.

“And the father’s medical history?”

Your doctor was patient as you shook your head, the thin sheet of paper shuffling underneath you loudly. Her kind expression kept your frayed nerves calm, despite the fact that you felt like you were falling apart.

“One night stand, you said. Correct?” she asked gently, plucking a tissue from a box and handing it to you while you nodded, still unable to form a coherent sentence. “It’s okay. If you are still in contact with him, perhaps you could ask.”

Your hands gripped the tissue, lowering your head as the doctor reached out to place her hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes closing at the thought of Andy finding out about your pregnancy.

“It’s okay. We’ll run all the tests we need to. I am a little concerned about your stress levels, though. Moving to a new city, transferring to another branch of your job and dealing with the loss of your ex-boyfriend is a heavy toll on a mother to be. I want you to rest for a few days. Is that a feasible request to ask with your job?”

“Yes,” you answered, hearing her relieved sigh.

“Good. Rest. We’ll send you home with some prenatal vitamins. I think we’ve gone over everything, but do you have any questions? I know this is new and it’s scary but you’re doing great.”

Maybe there were questions you had. But all you could think about was how you would tell your family without letting them know about Andy.

Your parents had understood your job transfer, even going so far as to help you search for an apartment, despite it being two hours away. They spoke nothing of the fact that you were overly tired, chalking it up to the events leading up to his transfer to another facility. Your mother had held you in her arms as she had rocked you back and forth, like she'd done when you were a child.

You couldn't help but wonder if you'd one day do the same with the life that was growing inside you.

There was no way you could tell him about it. Not yet. So you kept it a secret, making excuses for your nausea and tiredness as stress, trying to not get emotional at your father's face as he placed the last box in your new apartment. They'd stayed for the weekend before your doctor's appointment, excited for the extra bedroom that now meant they could come and stay.

You'd been proud of yourself. There was no word from Andy, not since Laurie had gotten out of the hospital. Andy was still at Jacob's bedside but he seemed to get better. It was all you could hope for, making sure that you left everything in the past. Ever so often, the guilt and the grief would hit and you'd wonder if you could ever tell Andy the truth. The fear of him finding out was much worse than wanting him to know the truth outright.

For now, you were content with your life and looking forward to the future.

❄️

The heat blasted in your car as you looked out the windows for any sign of the potential buyer. The sprawling farmhouse had recently been renovated and while you were excited to get back into the field, you weren't thrilled to be walking outside in freezing cold weather. The appraisal would be quick by your calculations and you looked down sheepishly at your undone pants under your thick sweater. You weren't ready to go up a size in pants, even as your middle was beginning to get thicker.

You shifted in your seat, looking at the time before you busied yourself with finishing up what paperwork didn't require you to leave the comfort of your car.

After a few more minutes, you let out a sigh, struggling to button back your pants as you bundled your coat around you to get out of the car. At the minimum, you could look at the exterior of the place until they finally showed up. Most likely an investor, judging by the upgrades of the manicured lawn and freshly installed windows.

Your boots crunched on the frosty sidewalk before you reached the wide steps, clutching your clipboard as you peered inside the empty living room. You wrote your notes, continuing around the side as you looked up at the second floor.

The sound of a door opening made you turn around as you headed back to the door. They'd probably parked in the garage, something you had thought about until you saw him standing on the steps.

"Andy," you squeaked, gripping the clipboard tighter. "What are you doing here?"

He seemed to examine you a little longer than normal and you tried to ignore the sense of foreboding that was beginning to snake inside your head. You noticed his wedding ring was gone as he rubbed his hands together from the cold.

"Been thinking about selling the place," he said quietly. "Bought it a while back, wanted to make sure I'm asking a fair price for it."

"You own it?"

"Yeah. I do," he answered, holding the door open for you. "When everything started happening, I wanted to find a place to get away from Boston."

"I didn't know you had another place."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't cut off communication with me, you would have known that."

You swallowed hard as you followed him inside, inspecting the living room as he leaned against the wall, his arms across his chest.

"I told you," you began, feeling your face get hot with frustration. "It was wrong. It was too much and it was wrong. Let's just... leave it at that."

You walked past him into the kitchen, writing down more notes as he followed. You were relieved that he hadn't fired back, tried to coerce you into making you feel bad for leaving him alone. It had all been for the better as far as you were concerned.

"You blocked my number. Figured you didn't want to engage anymore. As much as I'd like to say this is a coincidence, it's not. I asked your boss where you went. I trust your judgment to make sure this place is looked at properly."

"I think you're asking too little," you counted, trying to change the subject as you pointed out at the newly installed cabinets. "Everything in here is brand new."

If he was going to keep it strictly business then you would oblige him.

"I had them remodel a few months ago. Place needed a full refurb so I just took care of it."

"Seems like you did a great job. Well below what I would ask for," you noted.

"You haven't seen the upstairs."

"Oh?" you asked, your interest piqued. "Damage? The ceilings look pristine to me. No water damage from what I can see."

Andy started up the stairs as you followed behind him slowly.

"One more room to remodel," he said, walking down the hallway. "Haven't had a chance to paint yet."

He stopped by a door, opening for it for you to walk into the space as you stopped in your tracks, your clipboard pressed against your chest as you sucked in a breath.

A box with a picture of a crib was laid on the floor, as well as various other items that had not been placed out of their respective boxes: a changing table, a rocker, a stroller and a dresser.

"How far along?" Andy asked you, his voice calm as you looked around the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid with me. You block my number, move to a new city. You don't think I kept tabs on you? I saw you leave the doctor's office. So let's try again. No lies this time. How far along are you?" His voice left no room for you to try to get out of telling him the truth.

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes as you answered him.

"Nine weeks."

"Were you going to tell me?"

You turned, watching his brow furrow as a long silence passed.

"Answer me, damn it!" Andy huffed.

"No. I wasn't," you answered quietly. "It was too complicated. It still is."

"Did you not think I wanted to be involved?"

"You can't be." You take a step back. One day, this room would become a nursery and you were feeling boxed in.

"Do you understand that our baby needs me too? Did you think I was going to let you just pack up and leave? I have rights too. I could take you to court, you know. Get full custody if I press hard enough. Is that what you want? I’ll push for supervised visits. Can’t trust a future mother to be with a former boyfriend who is in prison. Not a good environment to raise a kid in.”

At the mention of him, you blinked back tears.

"Think of your poor parents. They're sweet but as old school as they come. You think they'll accept you as an unwed mother? I know her social circles. They won't go for it. She'd be devastated."

"They would still love me," you protested, your voice wavering. "No matter what."

"Do they even know?"

"No."

He threw up his hands as he shook his head.

"When were you going to tell them? When you're in labor?" he scoffed. "Maybe I should just tell them now. Get it over with."

“N-no,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “You can’t. Andy, please.”

You knew your mother would be beside herself. Eventually, she would come around but at the moment, all you can see is her disappointed face. She'd have tons of questions, none of which that she would like the answers to.

She loved Laurie. The betrayal would be horrendous.

"Then you make sure I'm involved. I want to be there for every doctor's appointment. I'm not letting you shut me out because you're afraid."

"And this?" you motioned, tears spilling down your cheeks. "You were spying on me! You knew this whole time."

"You're going to live here. We're starting over."

"No," you whispered harshly. "I said this never should have happened and it did. You made sure of it."

Andy pulled you against him, his hands gripping your arms.

"You told me you needed me. I needed you too."

You shook your head as the tears continued to drip down your face.

"No, not like this."

"Yes, like this," Andy continued, his expression filled with irritation. "This is how it was always going to be. You let me into your life, remember? I promised to take care of you. I'm going to do that for both of you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of patience, Andy stakes his claim.

The smell of eggs and bacon reached your nose as you opened your eyes, stretching slightly before you realized that you weren’t alone. There had been no use in trying to talk Andy out of spending the night. You had at least managed to get him to let you go back to your apartment.

Once you peeked around the corner, Andy looked up in your direction as the toast popped up behind him.

“Made you breakfast,” he greeted you as you sat at the table. “Figured we could eat before we talked.”

“About what?” you asked, feeling your heart skip a beat as he placed a plate of eggs, bacon and toast under your nose before he sat across from you.

“Well,” he began, motioning to your fork as you picked it up. “For starters, we need to solidify where you’re going to live.”

“Right here. I’ll figure something out when my lease is up.”

“I broke it for you,” Andy replied, placing a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“What?”

You furrowed your brow as you placed the fork back on your plate, glaring at him as he chewed slowly.

“You can’t do that,” you protested, the anger bubbling up inside you quickly. “It’s my name on the lease.”

“I paid it off. You think I want you in a place like this? Sure, it’s got another bedroom, a little more space but the schools aren’t great.”

“Andy, I’m staying here. I needed to get away and that’s what I did.”

“No. You aren’t staying here. This isn’t negotiable.”

“I know it isn’t,” you insisted, pushing back your chair. “Because I’m not going anywhere. I will try my hardest to make sure we co-parent as best we can but I have a life. A job.”

His jaw set at your tone, his head shaking as he let out a dark laugh.

“You really want to push me right now? Is that what you want to do?”

“It’s a situation I didn’t expect to be in but I’m in it now and I,” you paused, inhaling deeply before you feel the pressure in your chest at the guilt. “I have to make the best of it. Which means I’ll raise it here.”

Andy leaned forward on the table, an eyebrow raised at your tone.

“Single motherhood isn’t a good look, sweetheart. Think about what Father Jacobs would say if he found out about you. How quickly do you think your mother’s fall from grace would be? No more Christmas parties, that’s for sure. Your parents are traditional. I don’t think they’d appreciate you hiding this from them. Maybe I should call them and let them know your decision.”

“You think threatening me is going to help? You ruined my life,” you snapped, tears filling your eyes as you stand. “Before you, I had a boyfriend who I loved. My parents were close by and I had a future.”

At your admission, he pushed the chair back, slamming his hands on the table.

“Hey!” His voice was loud, echoing as you took a step back. “Correct me if I’m wrong but I didn’t murder someone in cold blood. I’m not the one in prison. Did I not pull strings so you could see that sorry excuse that you call a boyfriend while I looked the other way? You told me you needed me. Don’t you forget that.”

“What was I supposed to do? He was never getting out, was he?”

The silence told you what you already knew, tears brimming in your eyes.

“It was your father. He did it, didn’t he?” you accused, Andy blowing out a long breath.

“He crossed the wrong people. But regardless, his appeal was going to be denied anyway. Deep down, you know that. Even when my marriage was crumbling, even when I didn’t know that this hellhole that my family was going to be put through was ever going to end, I still thought about you.”

“You wanted someone to control!” you shouted with a hard shake of your head.

“You’re damn right I did!”

“Get out,” you ordered, angrily wiping away your tears.

"You want me out? Fine,” Andy says, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Just gotta make a quick phone call first. I know you mother is old school. Doesn't like guests just dropping by, right? I think you can agree the news of your pregnancy isn't something she should hear over the phone."

As his fingers punched in the number, you stormed toward him, reaching for it as you shook your head in anger. He lifted the phone above you, pulling you against him as he anchored your arms to your side.

"Your choice if you come with me or not. Either way I'm telling them today."

At the low sob that caught in your throat, the phone was placed on the table as he cradled you in his arms, his lips against your forehead as he hushed you gently.

“You have to calm down. Breathe. Can’t imagine all this stress would be good for the baby,” he soothed. “This whole thing will go a lot easier once you understand who is in charge."

You pulled back at his reply, blinking as he allowed only a small space between you both.

"This whole thing?" You questioned. "You mean my life? Our child?"

He caressed your cheek with a knuckle, the glimpse of the tan line from his missing wedding ring catching your attention.

"Yes," he said simply, a determined look in his eyes as you shook your head once more.

"Oh, I’m sorry. Did you like it better when I worked behind the scenes?"

His words cut like a knife as you swallowed down the painful lump in your throat, feeling the room get smaller under his gaze.

"I can do that if you prefer. Bottom line honey, you're mine,” Andy reminded you darkly. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

You felt yourself beginning to panic, his arms still around you as he kissed your forehead, paralyzing you.

"You'll never be rid of me," he whispered, cupping your small but growing belly in his hands. "Gonna keep you so full and round. You'll never leave me."

When you try to pull away, he held your jaw, gentle but with enough pressure that you can’t pull away.

"You'll be a good little Catholic girl, give me that nice church wedding with a white dress and then," he said with a chuckle, "Then you'll give me all the babies I want."

❄️

The ride to your parents’ house was made even longer by Andy’s drilling of information into your head. Keeping a united front was the path of least resistance by his standards and you didn’t want to upset them any further than you were already going to.

Your mother said nothing when you stepped inside the house, Andy in tow as she gave you a look of surprise. Once you were settled onto the couch, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating fast at the impending news as Andy cleared this throat.

“Under different circumstances, I think this news would be received a little differently than how I expect you to react,” Andy began, nodding slowly at your mother and father. “But I felt that this was important enough to say face to face.”

The deep breath you took once you sat down slowly began deflating through your parted lips as your mother raised an eyebrow at you.

“Sweetheart? Is there something you want to tell us?” Your father’s eyes were full of worry and that made you feel worse, knowing that the news you were going to spring on them was going to be hard for them to understand.

You remembered Andy’s words, rehearsed in the car like he would a client.

“I’m pregnant,” you announced quietly, your mother’s eyes widening as she covered her mouth in surprise. “It’s Andy’s.”

You felt your father’s eyes but they weren’t on you. His entire focus was on Andy as your mother shook her head.

“You’re married,” she said finally, her voice thick with emotion as her shock turned to ire. “Does Laurie know?”

“My marriage is over. It’s in the process of getting annulled, the divorce will be final within two months. She doesn’t know,” Andy qualified with a set of his jaw, his voice hard. “Not yet.”

“And you?” Your mother turned to you, eyes glassy with tears. “What about… I assume it’s over. You know Laurie. How could you do this to her? I’m sorry, I just can’t believe this. You’ve always been so responsible. You’re not married, he’s technically still married…”

Your father took your mother’s hand and held it, his fingers threading between hers as she trailed off, looking away for a moment. Your heart broke at the sight, knowing this was what you were trying to avoid.

“What your mother means to say is that we’re both surprised. But it appears, at least to me, this was also a shock for you as well,” your father summarized, his voice even tempered while you stifled back a cry.

You lifted your chin at your father’s words, eyes brimming with tears as you nodded.

“How long has this been going on?” Your mother’s fire was back in full force, her hand ripping away from your father’s as she wiped away her tears angrily. “You have to know how this looks. What will Father Jacobs say?”

“Nothing,” Andy replied. “I’ll speak to him. Once the divorce is final and my marriage annulled, you have my word we'll make this right.”

“What do you mean, make it right?” your mother asked, suspicion painted across her face.

“I know you have a reputation to uphold. Let me speak to Father Jacobs and I’ll have a timeline all planned out. No one has to know. Quick little wedding once the divorce is done, lay low for a bit. I know you’re worried. You’ve always been the fixer in this family but you’re my family now too. You shouldn’t have to rush to clean up our mess. Let me do it.”

“Well,” your mother relented after a long pause. “I don’t have much of a choice but to hold you at your word. Maybe a quick ceremony at another church a few hours away. Less people.”

“Is that what she wants?” your father asked, turning to you. “This is about you too, sweetheart.”

At the nickname, you fought back the urge to shake your head. To tell them every single dark promise that Andy had told you on the way over and how you rehearsed what you were going to say. Even his low threat of never seeing your parents again if you didn’t comply.

But you had to play along, for the time being, the shame and embarrassment on your mother’s face enough to make you nod your heavy head as your father continued to examine your face before he sighs.

“Whatever you want,” he said finally, his back leaning into the couch cushions. “I’ll support you, honey. You know that.”

The conversation ends with your mother thinking of wedding plans, her mind off of Laurie and your unplanned pregnancy as she excused herself to dig through her plethora of magazines.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you sweetheart?" Your dad asked.

Your lip trembled and for a moment you almost broke down and told him everything. You wanted to but then Andy appeared behind him, his blue eyes unnaturally dark in the shadow of the hallway.

"I'm fine, Dad. Just tired and hormonal."

If he didn’t believe you, your father kept it to himself, enveloping you in a hug before he helped you with your coat.

“I love you,” he promised, kissing the top of your head. “Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will,” you responded, trying to keep up a brave face as you felt Andy’s hand on the small of your back once you opened the door as he led you outside.

Andy quickly pulled you to him, forcing you to rest your cheek against his chest as the cold night air surrounded you.

"That's a good girl," he all but purred, hands sweeping down your back. "Did so good listening to me. Just like we practiced."

Once you were back inside the car, Andy turned on the heat for you before the car pulled away from the curb. Exhausted from the emotional ordeal, you struggled to keep your eyes open, still trying to process what would be coming next. You knew there would be an eventual phone call from your mother once she had digested the news. Then there would be her world-famous speech about ‘making it right’ in the eyes of God.

“I'm sure you didn’t want to keep it,” Andy told you, breaking you out of your thoughts as he smoothed his hand over your bump as you looked out the window. “Thank god for that Catholic guilt. Burrowed in deep, huh?”

There wasn’t anything you could say. Your mother, while upset, at least seemed placated for the moment at the promise of Andy marrying you. In her own way, she’d twist this around, make it seem like it was all a misunderstanding and that Andy had just needed someone who could understand him as he went through such trying times. As much as she loved Laurie, you knew that she loved you and her reputation more.

"You're going to need to do a better job of selling it to your father, honey. I've seen that look on jurors before. He won’t buy it if you don’t seem sincere.”


End file.
